Soul, Tortured
by Saffron Oliander
Summary: Valentina needs a demon. Sebastian needs a soul. The masquerades are for 'demon selection', and if Valentina chooses him she can finally get revenge on those who have wronged her. M for violence and suggestive themes. SebastianxOC, and Ash/Angela.
1. masquerade, enchanting

**A/N:** Welcome to my Kuro fanfic, whooooo! Don't have much to say, other than I hope all of you enjoy it! A review would be wonderful tooooo. :)

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><p>I see him across the floor, leaning against one of the gold-brushed pillars. They are reminiscent of Grecian times, which plays upon the silver embossed mask he has over his face. It seems he can't take his eyes from me, but I don't mind. I know what he is.<p>

Demon.

I need his services, and the only way to successfully ensure contract is to seduce him. It's easier said than done – I've been told demons detest human affection and happiness, so it'll be quite the task to get him to mark my skin in contract. But I'm worth it – my task is worth it.

His burning red eyes sear through the holes cut in his mask and lock onto mine, daring me to move or even to breathe. I know he can see the specific gleam in my eye when I turn away, lifting my chin and squaring my shoulders. Its day one of masquerade season, after all, and there are plenty of other demons on the dance floor to attract.

I have always been especially perceptive, so it isn't difficult to determine it's_ his_ eyes on my back. He won't be looking at my dress, though. It's my soul he's interested most in. Tonight I've worn one of my favorite dresses; it's mint-green with diamonds and glittering beads sewn across the bodice, dripping down on the full skirt. Its strapless, showing off my shoulders as is my trademark. My dark brown hair is curled and halfway pinned up to my head, letting me wear my mask easier. My hair hides the satin ribbon that ties the mask to my face, and delicate ringlets frame the mask.

I reach up and tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, risking a glance over my shoulder to the demon against the pillar. He isn't there anymore, surprisingly, to my disappointment. A figure brushes close by me – a flash of black and silver. Butterflies spring up in my stomach when I realize who it is. The demon, placing his hand on my shoulder and pulling me closer.

"Would you care to dance?" The demon steps back and places his right hand over his left breast, waiting patiently for my answer. I can't very well refuse his offer if I want his help, so I take his white-gloved hand and allow him to lead me onto the dance floor.

An orchestra expertly plays one of Mozart's sonatas, inspiring the couples on the floor to turn in an elegant waltz. Skirts brush against the floor, hands intertwine and hundreds of masks flash before my eyes as the demon turns me in a circle, leading me effortlessly into the identical waltz performed by everyone around us.

I wonder what it is about his eyes that have my heart beating quicker than usual. I'm sure he can hear it – especially when his eyes flash almost mischievously. I notice how his tuxedo is a little less understated than the rest of the ones worn by other men; the only distinguishing factors are the brilliantly polished silver buttons and the matching silver chain looped around one of the lower buttons and stuck in his pocket.

The demon leans in until I can feel his mask brush against my ear. "Do you have a name, mortal?" His voice is a low murmur, but I can clearly hear him. His voice is like liquid fire; deliciously velvet and sinking into my bones.

"Valentina." I reply smoothly. I know the etiquette with demons – and I know a shy personality is not the route to go. Even if my voice hints at confidence, I'm shaking inside. It's what I wanted, but knowing a demon has shown interest in me is still enough to make my blood go cold. Everyone knows it's the deepest sin to make a pact with a demon and invite him to do your bidding, but it never stops the ambitious.

Low laughter meets my ears. "Courage – I like that."

"Do _you_ have a name, demon?" I flip his question and ask it to him, hoping it increases his opinion of me.

The demon laughs again, sounding faintly amused. "My name is whatever you decide it to be."

I roll my eyes behind the mask, knowing he can't see. "Tell me your past names, and I'll choose one to my liking."

"My past names are many: Heracleos, Alban, Xierothea, and most recently Sebastian."

"Sebastian," I echo. "That one isn't difficult to say."

"Sebastian it is, mistress."

I pull my head back, intending to give him a scathing look to show I'm not amused. My breath catches when I see his eyes – violet roils within their depths and the pupils have been reduced to mere feline slits. He's frightening me now, and perhaps he senses it. Sebastian closes his eyes and when they open once more, red has returned to replace the disturbing violet.

His hand tightens around mine and the hand on the small of my back feels impossibly harsh. Sebastian is testing me, and I must not fail. I quickly replace the fear in my eyes with a carefully cultivated neutral expression; one that will most certainly erase his doubts.

"We've no connection yet, demon. It's Valentina to you."

Sebastian's laughter relaxes me. I've done well.

"But I know it is what you desire," he tells me. "You desire a contract with me. You want me."

"Brave words for one of Hell's minions," I say back. By this time the orchestra has moved on to a piece more lively and I'm in no mood for energetic dancing. I remove my hand from his shoulder and step back, meeting his eyes one last time before cutting through the crowd.

My heart is racing – things are playing out just as I had hoped. It doesn't help to quell my fears, though, for knowing just who Sebastian is and what he is capable of is unnerving, to say the least. I feel eyes on me and sense they're Sebastian's, but I have to keep my attention away from him. It's the next step; now that I've made my interest known, I need to draw him in with my own personal brand of charm and beguilement.

Sebastian is the perfect demon for me. This much is obvious as he's the only one who has shown me any interest out of all the demons present. Usually, that is the clearest indication of a supernatural match. I weave through a crowd of other women, all dressed in their finest. I think it's a pointless move – I'll save my finest gown for the last night of the masquerade. This is only the first dress of three for tonight, and my first mask to boot.

The clock booms seven times – time for the women to make a disappearance. I grudgingly leave the ballroom and down the hallway to where I've stashed my two dresses for the night behind a suit of armor. The second dress is a pale blue satin, impossibly tight around my chest and pushing my breasts up and together to create cleavage.

The demon Sebastian will like this dress, I think.

When the women return, the ballroom has changed. New tapestries replace the old ones and the columns are swathed in white gossamer fabric, illustrating a sort of delicate forest glen. The lighting has dimmed and tinted pale green, adding to the effect. We haven't changed our masks yet – that comes later on in the night. I can't see Sebastian… but I won't admit to myself that I've been looking for him.

A man comes up to me and asks me to dance, but he's human. I have no interest in his advances, but it won't be polite to tell him no. I let him lead me to the dance floor and follow his moves, trying to ignore the way his hand creeps down my lower back uncomfortably. I'm about to push him away and possibly smack the mask off his face when a pair of white gloves curl over his shoulders.

"I think I shall take it from here." The man is pulled elegantly away, but it's hard to miss the way Sebastian's fingers are digging deeply into his flesh.

My brow lifts curiously when Sebastian takes his place, effortlessly melting into his shoes.

"Sebastian," I glance away, making my greeting seem nonchalant. I wonder if I've angered him, for the hand holding mine tightens.

"You have fire in you," he retorts, studying my face. "Spirit."

"Don't you demons like that sort of stuff? Confidence and bravery?"

Sebastian chuckles, spinning me in a smooth circle under his arm and back to the dance. He is an excellent dancer, I will admit; it's quite possible his effortless grace comes from being a demon. I'm annoyed that he hasn't responded to my comment, but then again I see all the answer I need in his eyes. Outlined in violet, his pupils dilate rapidly.

I look away.

These masquerades have but one purpose – demon attraction. Held every year around the fall solstice, it is the time for bonds to be created and lifelong pacts to be made. This is my first year attending; never before have I had the need for assistance from someone like Sebastian. But this year is different – I need him. Once he knows of the tasks I have lined up for him, I know he will be more than happy to oblige. Demons love carnage and destruction, don't they?

"Tell me why you need service," Sebastian murmurs. His voice is muffled behind his mask, but I can hear him clearly. It's as if everything around us has fallen to silence, left only with the sound of his voice.

I tilt my head back, meeting his eyes bravely. "There's still three days of revelry left – who says I'll form contract with you?"

Sebastian's laughter is dark and tainted, sending a shiver of apprehension down my spine. His black hair frames his mask when he straightens back up.

"There is no telling, mistress. But as I am the only demon who has asked for a dance, I'd say the chances are quite favorable."

It's as if his words have turned the tables. Another man steps up to his side and taps his shoulder, wearing identical white gloves like Sebastian's. His hair is thick, wavy and blonde and his lavender eyes burn – demon.

"May I cut in?" His voice leaves me with no doubt. A human man could never hope to achieve such a melodious sound in his entire lifetime.

Sebastian looks annoyed, but he can't say no. Its demon etiquette during these things – every demon must have his or her chance at a contract. This new demon takes my hands and spins me in time with the lively music now played from the orchestra. I'm still in no mood for lively dancing, but I've never spoken with this demon before so I'll give him his chance.

His mask is frightening, as most demons' are. It depicts a twisted face, screaming in agony with one side resembling charred burns. I'm frightened of this demon, but if I let him see it he'll torment me with it.

"You're too charming a woman to be here tonight," the demon tells me, his eyes flashing. "What could a young woman such as you possibly need with a demon?"

"I don't think I'm at liberty to share that information," I tell him smoothly. I keep my voice light and humorous, knowing he can't see the smile underneath my mask.

"No, I don't suppose you are." The blonde-haired demon snorts, shaking his head. "I hate when butterflies refuse to be caught."

I glance away, feeling my skin prickle uncomfortably. I think I liked being called 'mistress' more than a butterfly. This demon laughs, but it isn't the same sound as Sebastian's. Granted, it is as dark as his, but with less amusement and more threat. I won't lie – I'm scared of this man. I know he won't be the demon I ask to make a contract with, simply because being around him now is putting me on edge and making me fear for my life.

But if this demon can to that to his potential master, then what would he make my enemies feel?

That thought is tempting to say the least. Certainly Sebastian is frightening, but this second demon is downright terrifying. His appearance is memorable, as beauty usually is, yet there is something underlying that aesthetic appeal that automatically makes me want to recoil in trepidation.

Three minutes into our dance and I'm already considering this demon instead of Sebastian.

"Are you like all the other demons too? Do I have to give you a name?"

The blonde-haired demon shakes his head. "No. I have a name, and refuse to be given another."

"Well then, what is it? Your name?" The demon stares straight into my eyes unabashedly, studying my soul inside. The lavender depths of his eyes seem to swirl hypnotically, and I am only saved when a dancing couple brushes by too closely and nearly knocks me off my feet. Annoyed, I glance away to see it is Sebastian, whirling with another woman. She is laughing with joy, but his eyes are on mine.

There is a warning in them. Does Sebastian know this demon?

"Ash," he interrupts my thoughts, bringing my focus back. "And you are Valentina."

I hesitate for the briefest of moments, quickly pulled back into the dance by Ash's impatient arms.

"How do you know my name?"

"I am a different kind of demon, Valentina. I don't need words to tell me what I already know." Ash's lavender eyes flick away, surveying the ballroom. "There are twenty different demons here in this room tonight – seventeen men and three women. By the end of the masquerade they will all have found souls to claim, just like your eager one."

"There's no way you can know who will make a contract and who won't," I retort sharply, calling his bluff.

"Oh, but there is." Ash gently traces his finger down my throat and along my collarbone, following the movement with his eyes. Goosebumps rise on my skin and I fight the overwhelming urge to run, forcing my skittish feet to concentrate on the dance steps instead.

The music comes to an end and I politely excuse myself from Ash, feeling like my controlled movements aren't quick enough. I know he's watching my retreat with those unsettling eyes – they're worse than Sebastian's. Lavender eyes aren't normal in any sense, and it only helps me know he isn't human. A couple of women linger near the table bearing refreshments so I join them, hoping to blend in and disappear. At this moment I don't want any demons looking at me; not Sebastian and certainly not Ash.

I lean against a gossamer-swathed pillar and tilt my head back, breathing deeply to try and slow my heartbeat. I never expected _two_ demons to show interest – its luck if even one glances your way. While there is no denying the outer beauty of a demon, the true attraction comes to what they can do. Nothing is impossible for a demon; no task too challenging, no fight unwinnable. You could ask a demon to turn himself into a teacup and he'd find a way to do it, all for the sake of the contract.

The contract is infinite, and orders are absolute.

I overhear the women tittering amongst themselves, gossiping about a few of the demons on the floor. It's completely crass to think some of them are here to score a demon simply for selfish purposes; guardians, housecleaners, lovers. My reasons are much more concrete and worthy.

I let my eyes wander over the people in the ballroom. The orchestra has taken a break and now chatter fills the air from the dancers. It's easy to spot the three female demons Ash mentioned – they're scantily clad and surrounded by ogling, drooling men all vying for her favor. I can hear the disapproving tones in the voices coming from the cluster of women near me, and it brings a smile to my face. I'm starting to get tired of my mask and I want to take it off, but I can't until the mask change is brought about.

The women are required to change dresses three times a night and masks only twice, so for the sake of comfort and sensibility I've toted along four half-masks; ones that will only cover one side of my face. It lets me breathe easier and isn't against the rules, because the demons can't see my whole appearance. The point of the masks, see, is to lure a demon with nothing more than the appeal of your soul. Many demons are often pulled into contract with nothing more than a pretty face and tempting body, so the masks and masquerade dresses are used to cover up those usual attraction techniques.

There are many beautiful dresses around me, but I'm too occupied with trying to _look_ preoccupied. Ash and Sebastian are both watching me from opposite sides of the room. The red gaze is strangely unreadable, while the lavender one is filled with desire and malice. It's a wonder those two emotions can mix, but Ash has them both nailed. If I wasn't searching for a demon consort I'm sure I'd be dead by now. Ash's look is threatening, to say the least.

Incredibly enough, two and a half hours have passed since the last dress change. The women vacate the ballroom once again and find their stashed dresses, changing in the hallways with help from one another. My third first-night dress is chocolate brown and delicate white lace, baring my shoulders as usual. It's one of my favorites and sets off my curled hair. I search for the canvas bag that holds my masks; carefully wrapped in silk. I've chosen to keep my mask bag understated simply because the value of what's inside – the masks are all extremely valuable and precious to me.

It's time to withdraw my half-mask. It is shaped as half of a star, revealing the right side of my face. I use the polished armor to adjust my makeup; touching up my eyeshadow, fixing my blush and lining my lips with blood red lipstick, even though only half of my face is visible. I fluff my hair and twine some curls around my finger to tighten them and withdraw a tiny bottle of perfume from the mask bag, sprizting my wrists and cleavage.

When the women return to the ballroom, they glance around for partners to dance with. Most of the human men step forward gladly, so it's all too easy to tell where the demons are. They survey the women and their dress changes, deciding who to single out and ask to dance.

Sebastian is at my side almost instantly.

"How are you able to tell me apart from the others?" I wonder, referring to the other women. "Especially once I've changed?"

"I know your soul, Valentina. It calls to me." Sebastian places his hand back over his breast, blinking slowly. I crinkle my mouth in a half smile, knowing that he can see the gesture now.

"That's funny," I say back, walking away from him to the drinks table. I ladle myself a crystal glass of pink punch and take a sip. Sebastian follows me, his eyes elsewhere.

"Listen to me, Valentina. Whatever you do, you must not make a contract with Ash. He is not who he seems."

I turn around quickly, hearing my skirts rustle. "Oh, a demon? Is that what you meant?"

Sebastian chuckles and reached out to touch my mask, tracing the points of the half star with his fingertips.

"I think I will let you figure that out on your own." Sebastian runs a hand through his hair, fixing his eyes on my mouth. "Those red lips…" My hand automatically moves up to my mouth, fingers touching my lower lip. "The color of passion."

"The color of blood." I insist. The look of surprise in Sebastian's eyes is hard to miss. The roiling violet returns with new vigor; pupils dilating, mouth opening faintly. My eyes are fixed on his mouth – the exhaustion from dancing must be getting to me, because I'm sure I've noticed pointed edges to his teeth. It's almost as if my words have unearthed a new side of Sebastian.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Ash's blonde hair moving toward me.

Sebastian's eyes flick towards the advancing demon and back to me. He holds out his hand in an offer to dance, but I've had enough. I shake my head politely, sipping from my glass of punch and glancing away. Suddenly Sebastian is very close – almost close enough to where our chests touch. My breath catches and the cup in my hand trembles uncertainly.

"I want to be courteous, Valentina, and it's in your best interest if you come with me." His voice is nothing but a private murmur, and I see a gaggle of women nearest me glance over with jealousy in their eyes. Ash is growing closer and closer, and so is my curiosity and desire to follow Sebastian. The tall, black haired demon holds out his hand once more and I place mine in it, allowing Sebastian to lead me away.

He doesn't take me to the floor, where couples dance and twirl like dervishes; instead, he weaves us through the people and around the columns, heading toward the entrance. I get a good feeling I know where we're going, so once we pass through the double doors and step down the stone steps, I pull on his hand to get him to stop.

Sebastian turns and gives me a confused look.

"I know where we're going," I tell him, taking my hand back. "And it's against the rules. We can't go to the grotto until the end of the masquerade, otherwise the contract isn't valid. I'm sure you know that."

Sebastian's laughter takes me by surprise. "That's not where we're going, mistress."

"Stop calling me that,"

The demon merely grabs my hand once more and leads me away again.

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><p><strong>AN:** I see absolutely no shame in begging for reviews - REVIEW! 3


	2. possession, created

**A/N:** Holy CRAP, I wrote a lot... I'm getting so swept up in inspiration and sheer _want_ to write this that I can't even help going nutso. =] I figure I'll update as I finish each chapter. With past stories I had made the attempt to update once a week, but that was tedious and oftentimes I forgot! This story is rated M, yes, but I'll warn you beforehand so you don't stumble upon any violence or suggestive stuff like BAM! Many thanks to the reviewers I have so far; it's only chapter two, and already you're making me feel loved! :3

**Disclaimer:** I forgot to throw in one of these in my last chapter! *le gasp* I do not own any of the characters in Kuroshitsuji, as much as I wish. =[

**Warning**: Nothing really as of yet, just very, very, _VERY_ mild violence.

Enjoy!

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><p>A tiny glen of trees opens up before us, nestled in amongst the rocks. The only light here comes from the stars and the moon. As I stumble over my skirts and trip on clumps of knotted grass, it's only Sebastian's hand that keeps me from falling on my face. I can't fathom for the life of my why Sebastian has brought me out here, and then like a slap to the face I remember the masquerade rules.<p>

"I'm supposed to entice you with my offer, aren't I?" I stop walking and gently pull my hand away, rubbing them over my skin. It isn't warm out here and my shoulders are cold. Sebastian reaches up and pulls his mask off, revealing a _beautiful_ creamy pale face, straight aquiline nose and a mouth that looks like it's talked its way to possessing countless souls. His black hair falls into his face until he pushes it away, and his eyes are fixed on me. I'm not even sure 'beautiful' is an acceptable term to describe a man with his features.

"That is what is expected, yes."

I can't take my eyes off his face. It's perfect, irresistible and deadly. I shouldn't be so enamored with such a trivial matter – Sebastian can murder me in a literal second. A smile plays at the corners of his mouth as he waits.

I take my time, knowing he's waiting for me to speak. My eyes have acclimated to the darkness and I find a patch of dry grass and lift my skirts, settling down and folding my legs underneath me. I scratch behind my mask, itching to take it off. Even if Sebastian broke the rules by removing his mask, I don't want to do the same. He stands in front of me, waiting for me to speak with his hands at his sides.

"I need you," I begin, leaning back against the thin trunk of an apple tree. It isn't in season so there is no fruit, but the air still smells faintly of it. "To help me avenge everything that went wrong in my life. I lost everything – my friends, my family. Anyone important to me was slaughtered."

"You want me to kill the ones who wronged you?"

Angry tears prick my eyes before I can respond. Sebastian is still staring down at me, and despite the dark I know he can see perfectly. I turn my head away, not wanting him to see the moisture in my eyes and hug my body with my arms.

"Yes."

Sebastian settles next to me in one blindingly fast movement, reminding me just how inhuman he is. His eyes are violet again – glowing in the darkness.

"I cannot pretend to understand sadness," he whispers, so quiet I barely hear him. "But I can do as you ask of me."

I meet his eyes. "You can't tell me that," I cross my arms. "It's not time."

Sebastian grins, taking my chin in his hand. He tilts my head up and I freeze uncertainly, unsure of what he's going to do.

"I think you'll find, Valentina, that until I'm under contract I do whatever the hell I want."

Suddenly his lips are on mine, pushing my mask up onto my head and my mouth open. His lips are soft and breath hot, and when his tongue tumbles against mine I nearly melt. I can't move, as much as I want to – Sebastian's other hand has moved to cup the back of my neck. I feel his fingers creep up into my hair to the satin ribbon that keeps my mask tied to my face, but even if I had realized he was about to take it off I wouldn't have been able to stop him.

My mask falls to into my lap, lonely and discarded.

And just like that the spell is broken, but before I can snatch my mask up and tie it to my face again, Sebastian has bitten my lip roughly, drawing blood to my mouth. He leans back with burning eyes, looking completely satisfied with himself.

I gasp, covering my mouth with one hand and turning away. Blood is smeared on my palm when I examine it; a dark blotch on my pale skin.

"What the hell?" I exclaim, jumping to my feet and catching my mask before it can fall into the grass. "That really hurt!" Sebastian is laughing below me on the ground, darkly amused.

"There's my mark, Valentina. Now that disgusting Ash can never hope to touch you." I turn to glare at Sebastian while he's getting gracefully to his feet, dusting off the front of his elegant tuxedo.

"You have some nerve," I challenge, ripping a leaf off the closest tree and dabbing my lip with it.

"Of course I do. I'm a demon." Sebastian tucks his mask into the lapel of his tux jacket, resting his right hand over his left breast.

"Are you angry?" Amusement touches his voice, so I bet he isn't serious. "Punish me, mistress."

"I'm not your mistress!" I shout, shredding the leaf into a thousand pieces and throwing them at his face. Sebastian grins and blows at the air in front of him – the leaf pieces halt and suspend mid-air. My eyes boggle for the briefest of moments before the sharp pain in my lip brings me back to the present.

I spin around and stride away, tying my mask to my face as I do so. I'm annoyed he has had the gall to take my mask off and _mark_ me, no less. But even through the irritation, I feel something I'm not sure rightly belongs. Certainly Sebastian is handsome – you'd have to be blind not to see it. But underneath his beauty is darkness; tainted, twisted darkness that even a simple human like me can sense.

Sebastian's quiet footsteps behind me let me know he's following after me. As much as I hate to admit it, fear slithers up my throat. His kiss had been passionate and unrestrained, but was it all only to mark me as his potential master?

"Valentina," he calls my name, vying for my attention. As if by some magical force, I stop in my tracks and turn to face him. Sebastian comes close to me and reaches for my face. I flinch, but he's only wiping away the blood on my chin. My lip is still throbbing, but after his touch it's as if I was never bitten. The pain vanishes and my eyes widen as I reach up and brush my finger to my lip once more.

"All these things and much more I can do for you," he tells me, leaning close again. "Promise me your soul and our contract can be created."

I lift the eyebrow he can see, letting him know I'm still skeptical.

"But the masquerade," I protest, quieted when he places his finger over my lips.

"My power allows us to bypass the magic of the masquerade," he says. "We can bind ourselves here and now."

The idea is tempting – so very tempting. The better part of my brain tells me to accept his proposal, to form our unbreakable bond, and the more logical part wants me to ignore his words completely. I raise my hand and gently pull his away from my mouth, blinking and lifting my head.

"I think I'll wait." I turn again and pick my way back to the castle, and when I turn to see if Sebastian has followed, I see him standing in the same spot, grinning.

Those violet burning eyes have returned.

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><p>The first masquerade moon passes quickly. I'm not sure where the demons go at night, but the guests of the masquerade stay in the castle rooms. There are hundreds of them above the main ballroom, on different levels of the castle where everyone sleeps during the masquerade. Well, the women – men aren't allowed in the castle after the masquerade ends. I don't really know why the rules are this way; maybe it's to discourage the mortal men from sneaking into a woman's bedroom. The women are here for the demons, after all.<p>

My bedroom is not important – it's what's inside that matter to me. My dresses are all hanging inside a cherry-mahogany armoire; individually buttoned in cotton garment bags to keep them safe from the elements. I've traveled quite a long ways to get to this castle, and I'll be damned if faded silk and torn satin is going to keep me from my future demon consort.

While I settle in bed and pull my blankets up to my chin, I can't keep my thoughts from the masquerade – but namely, from Sebastian. My hand drifts up to my mouth of its own accord. I don't feel any scabs or bite marks from Sebastian's teeth but it doesn't mean there isn't anything there. I'm too warm to want to get out of bed and check in a mirror – and besides, I get the strange feeling that if I check and see nothing, I'll be disappointed.

I turn on my side and close my eyes, trying my hardest to clear my mind from Sebastian. It isn't too hard, and yet I still end up thinking of tomorrow night's masquerade. Suddenly my window shatters and I yelp, sitting bolt upright and clutching my blanket to my chest. A figure dressed in a white tuxedo tumbles in – still managing to assume grace when he straightens up.

Ash stands in the center of the shattered glass, taking a brief moment to pluck a shard from his thick head of hair.

"What the hell are you doing!" I shout, snatching one of the candles from my bedside table and trying my best to chuck it at his head. Ash ducks deftly and smiles lopsidedly, but it isn't an amused one.

"A possession mark?" Ash tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and the smile vanishes from his face. His eyes narrow and he takes a slow, deliberate step forward, staring at my lower lip. "He's more clever than I give him credit for."

"Ash, get the hell out of here," I tell him forcefully, scooting backwards until my spine presses against the wall. It's scaring me that he's here – terrifying me, really. The look in his eyes sends a shiver of fear down my spine and I get the distinct feeling if the thought to kill me should happen to cross Ash's mind he would go through with it with no hesitation.

"I had to see it for myself," Ash explains, settling himself on the edge of my bed. "I could tell there was something different about your soul… but I never expected Sebastian to go this far."

"What are you talking about?"

"The possession mark on your lower lip," he clarifies, speaking slowly. "It's going to make it very hard for me to claim you."

I try my best to make it seem casual when I tuck my arms under the blanket and tug it around my shoulders, but Ash's eyes catch the movement. He chuckles darkly, sliding closer with a shadowy intent in his eyes.

"You have nothing to fear from me," he attempts to comfort me, but the effort falls flat. Ash doesn't mean it – obviously. "I only want to serve you."

"And why is that?" I challenge him bravely, hoping it's not a mistake.

"As I've mentioned before, Valentina, I can read your soul. I know what your intents are with a demon cohort, and I want them. I want to serve you."

I lift my eyebrow curiously – how is it possible Ash can determine my darkest, innermost desires? I don't answer; instead letting the pounding of my heart fill the silence between us. Another dark smile crosses Ash's face and it's because he's entertained by the sound my fear.

"You can't make me choose you," I point out, dropping my eyes. I wonder if it would be hard for a demon like Ash to hypnotize me into doing his bidding… in order to force me to let him do my bidding.

"That's funny," he chuckles. "So naïve."

Ash gets to his feet and leans toward me, squinting in examination. Quicker than I can stop him, Ash reaches out and swipes his thumb along my lower lip, smiling with satisfaction. I recoil back and shut my eyes, willing him to leave.

"There," he whispers, close to my ear. "Gone."

When I open my eyes again, Ash has vanished and my bedroom window repaired.

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><p>I can't bring myself to get out of bed until night, when it's time to get ready for the second masquerade night. I start off by bathing thoroughly, scrubbing my skin until it's raw. I feel strange, knowing Ash was in my room last night. It's as if his <em>presence <em>taints my skin, and I'll do whatever it takes to cleanse myself of it. I towel my head vigorously to dry off and fix my hair, letting it fall in natural waves and braiding part of it tightly to my head. I don't do much to my face; lining my eyes in a kohl pencil and my lips in a light pink gloss seem to be enough.

Even though the masquerade guests won't see my face until my last mask change, I feel like I'm keeping my makeup understated in an attempt to _look_ understated. I really don't want any extra attention tonight.

Dress number one is a pearly white chiffon and tulle, falling to my knees and poufing out just enough to make it normal. I know everyone else's dresses will be floor length with gigantic skirts and muted colors; usually never white. It will attract some attention to me, but there's only so much I can change. I gather my second mask and two other dresses for later tonight, tuck them neatly inside the canvas bag I brought with me, descending the ridiculously long flight of stairs and stashing my bag behind the same suit of armor as I had done last night.

The mask for tonight is black and semi-winged; made of a delicate metal with slanted eyeholes. It only covers my eyes, leaving my mouth completely free. I wonder if Sebastian will notice the absence of his 'possession mark', as Ash had called it. When he'd wiped his thumb across my lower lip he had removed Sebastian's mark – but now that I think of it, I'm almost certain he'll notice.

The ballroom is characteristically packed. The orchestra plays a tune composed by Tchaikovsky; one of my favorites. I earn a few curious looks from some of the other women at the length of my dress but I disregard most of them. I really don't care what they think of my dress at all – I'm not here to impress them.

I'm here for my demon.

I can't see Sebastian yet, so I drift over to the table that holds food and snacks. I'm not too hungry; my stomach is still in knots from last night's unexpected visit. A white tuxedo passes by out of the corner of my eye and my body locks up, but no one approaches me just yet. Besides – there's really no telling if the white tuxedo-clad man is Ash or not.

I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down.

Across the ballroom, a tall figure with jet-black hair stands immobile. His mask for tonight imitates an ancient Greek theater "Smile Now, Cry Later" mask – one half pulled up in a smile, the other half frowning. The mask is stark white with no paint or color on it whatsoever, as if it had bled away. The figure stands peculiarly; his left hand covering his right breast in a sort of silent greeting or motion of complacency.

Sebastian.

I can't explain the excitement that fizzles in my veins when I see him – the sooner he notices me, the sooner I can quit fretting over Ash finding me first. I step away from the table and wind through the pillars, trailing my fingers along their polished surface. Tonight they've been left bare to showcase the fluted, marble craftsmanship. I keep my eyes on Sebastian, who isn't looking my way just yet. His head tilts ever so slightly and raises, almost as if picking up a certain scent on the air. Then his head turns and those deep, sienna-red eyes find mine.

I smirk, glancing away.

This coy game is the one I play best – I know exactly how to entice the opposite sex to come to me. It was something my mother took great pride in, before she was slaughtered. I push my hair off my shoulders and throw them back imperceptibly, standing taller. When I look back to where Sebastian had been standing, he is gone. That only makes my smile grow.

I watch the dancers, making it seem as though it's the most interesting thing in the world. It only takes a moment, but a white-gloved hand touches my shoulder very gently, persuading me to turn. Sebastian is standing behind me in the position I've grown accustomed to seeing him in, and when my eyes meet his he bows ever so slightly.

"Valentina," he greets me, that velvet voice impossible to ignore or forget. I wonder how long it will take him to notice his mark is gone – Ash picked it up instantly when he broke into my room.

"Sebastian, you've come for another night? I thought for sure someone else had a need for you." The demon shakes his head, and I know he's smiling.

"No one but you can hold as much interest for me the way you do, mistress."

I roll my eyes to show I'm not amused, but deep inside I'm glowing from his almost-praise. The orchestra plays a slow, dark piece and it grabs my attention, so I take the reins tonight and hold out my hand.

"Care to dance, demon?"

Sebastian laughs and accepts my offer, leading me to the floor and winding his arm firmly around my waist. We turn out the steps masterfully – Sebastian is the best dance partner I've ever come across. His inhuman grace makes dancing such a slow waltz worth it, and several couples hesitate to watch us. We are beautiful and sublime. His effortless grace flows through my limbs and makes my dancing smoother than it ever has been before, and the high from being the center of attention is making me feel braver than before.

"I can't help but notice my mark has disappeared," Sebastian tells me, dipping his head so I can hear him. He is a good deal taller than I, so it makes for hushed conversation a burden.

"You can thank Ash for that. He broke into my room and removed it."

Sebastian stiffens as it he's been stabbed. For the first time in our countless dances, his movements are clumsy and imperfect.

"Please, come with me." His voice is tight and restrained, but I can hear the anger behind it. I wonder if following him is such a good idea, but his hand is gripping mine tightly and I have no choice but to obey. The other dancers part as we cross the floor, brushing too closely to the violinists. Several of them glare and seem like they are about to comment, but are silenced by Sebastian's warning glare.

I hope to God I'm never on the receiving end of a look like that from him.

Sebastian pushes through a set of doors and into the abandoned hallway, his shoes echoing on the high ceilings. My hand hurts, though I don't have the strength to pull it out of his. I've already tried with no avail – it was like trying to pull a grown tree from the ground with my bare hands.

Despite Sebastian's irritation, his voice is still seemingly gentle. I wonder just what is brewing under the surface, for his mask keeps me from seeing his face and any emotions that may pass over it. My heels click rapidly on the polished marble floor; we are walking quickly, as if Sebastian is interested in leading me away from danger.

"Sebastian, stop," I tell him, yanking on my arm. He frees me instantly, turning on his heel. We've reached the staircase now – a grand, winding affair covered in plush, red carpeting. Sebastian runs one hand through his hair, and I take it as a sort of fed-up gesture. I've only known Sebastian for two nights now, and already I have seen enough of his movements to glean that this one is somewhat foreign to him.

"What's wrong?" I ask, crossing my arms and leaning against the staircase banister. Sebastian glances away, hesitating before he answers.

"Ash is not the demon you want," he says to me, finally looking my way. "He is dangerous."

"So you wanted to warn me?" I scoff, shaking my head. "Aren't you all dangerous?"

Sebastian shakes _his_ head, but not to tell me I'm wrong. He comes closer to me and sits on one of the stairs, resting his arms on his knees.

"Sit with me, Valentina, and I will share with you what you deserve to know."

"What I deserve?" I echo, wondering if I should feel insulted.

"What I think you can handle." Sebastian clarifies this and looks up at me, gesturing to the space next to him. I sigh, weighing my options. I could walk away, but my interest has been piqued. I want to know what he has to say about Ash. I settle in near him, straightening my legs so my dress doesn't bunch up at my thighs. I see Sebastian's eyes wander down to my knees and above, newly bore from sitting. My skin is a creamy color, nearly matching Sebastian's.

"Ash is a demon, this much is true. But his nature is unlike mine, and unlike any I have ever met before. He does things from the sheer evil in his heart, with no thought of others."

"Doesn't that describe all demons?" I ask pointedly, feeling right.

Sebastian shakes his head slowly. "You will soon find that some demons, Valentina, hold more vestiges of courtesy than others."

"You?" I guess, seeing Sebastian's shoulders shake with silent laughter.

"Me," he agrees, but the sound of his voice is off. It's as though Sebastian is merely agreeing with me to suit my words. "Ash is much more than I have described, but these things I cannot tell you unless I am yours."

I can't find the words to continue our conversation, so I sit in silence. Of course, silence with Sebastian isn't really such – my hitched breathing that I try desperately to calm and the erratic beating of my heart I _know_ he can hear. Suddenly, I get an idea that I'm not sure even _I_ am brave enough to propose.

"Sebastian," I say, cutting myself off. The demon looks to me, a question in his eyes. "What do you say about… renewing my possession mark?"

Sebastian removes his mask instantly, and there is a look of muted surprise in his eyes. He has one eyebrow lifted and is wearing half of a smirk; evidence he has taken a liking to my suggestion.

"And perhaps one that is not so easily removed…?" The demon's additive suggestion to my own stills my breath.

"Yes." I inhale deeply and move closer to him, reaching up to untie my mask. Sebastian's hands still mine and take their place, his fingers combing gently through my thick hair. That feeling alone raises goosebumps on my skin and the proximity of Sebastian's face to mine is mouthwatering.

I'm not sure if this is how demon bonding is supposed to happen, but I definitely don't oppose to the way things are playing out. Sebastian pulls my mask away from my face and his eyes linger on mine and then move over my face. He sets my mask on the stair above us, and frames my face with his large hands, bringing his closer to mine.

"This mark will not disappear under the touch of another," he murmurs, lips inches from mine. "It is the most powerful I can give to you until we're bound in contract."

My eyes are half-lidded in wait, but I can see when he smiles. It only takes another quick second before his lips press into mine. The kiss is incomparable – decadent and irresistible. I can't help but move myself closer to the demon, twining my arms around his neck and feeling the strength of his shoulders underneath. Sebastian's hands stroke through my hair as he kisses me.

I moan against his mouth, and I feel Sebastian's smile. His teeth and tongue alike graze my lower lip, inviting my lips to part and when they do, his tongue presses against mine for the briefest of instances. I take the lead, swirling my tongue over and around his and feeling our kiss deepen. Sebastian's white-gloved hands travel down my neck and around to my back, pressing against shoulder blades.

I can't get enough of him – my hands grasp the collar of his tuxedo, pulling him closer with an animalistic groan. Sebastian's lips leave mine, leaving me feeling cheated, but it is only to ghost over my skin. How can it be that my skin is so heated? Sebastian's kisses are teasing; his mouth touches my collarbones with soft smacks; teeth grazing over places I could never dream to cover with my hair. I open my eyes momentarily and glance down - ultraviolent glows from his half-lidded eyes.

I close my eyes again and tilt my head back, lips parted in desire. I could have never hoped for anything more – if this is what leads up to a contract with him, what will the actual _act_ be like? That though spins through my head, so heady and consuming that I barely notice Sebastian has paused.

"This should be enough to keep you from Ash."

I begin to understand that Sebastian has finished, and when he pulls back I gently remove my hands from his lapel. The joints of my fingers ache – evidence of how firmly I had been grasping his tuxedo. I'm sure my face is flushed unattractively red and I have no doubt that my hair is messed, but I swallow my embarrassment and reach instead for my mask.

"I think that should do," I agree, fastening my mask to my face and trying to smooth my hair. Sebastian grins and I watch his dilated pupils slowly grow and return to normal.

"Rest assured, Ash will not be able to rid you of that mark." Sebastian's eyes travel down to my collarbones, inspiring me to look as well and gasp.

His teeth have broken the skin and blood travels down my chest, pooling at the neckline of my dress, staining the perfect white. I gasp again and try frantically to wipe it all away, succeeding only in smearing it across my pale skin. Sebastian removes one of his gloves and turns it inside out with accuracy, using it to effectively cleanse my chest. A bit of my blood gets onto his thumb and he glances at it thoughtfully, before lifting his hand to his mouth and sucking it away.

I can't help but notice the way his eyes absolutely burn in the process. They close and his head tilts back, lips parting ever so slightly, as if the taste of my blood causes him ecstasy.

"Sebastian, what the-" I've finally remember speech, and gently probe my injured skin with a few fingers, wincing in pain. This mark stings like the other one had not - it is a bee sting and a slap in the face all at once. Sebastian opens his eyes and the violet seas have calmed, slowly fading back to red. He takes his time in fixing his glove, sliding it back on his hand and reaching for his mask.

"Valentina, you are mine. I will _not_ let some demon incarnate take you from me."

Sebastian's words have me shivering.

"I won't choose him," I let him know. "Like I even can."

Sebastian leans close to me, his eyes burning with intensity once more. "Promise me something. If Ash returns to you tonight and tries to remove this new mark, call for me."

I arch one eyebrow. "How?"

Sebastian leans forward and brushes my hair out of my face. "You soul knows me, mistress. You need only to say my name, and I will be there."

I ignore the nickname and voice my newest concern: "Do you think Ash would harm me?"

Sebastian looks away, fixing his mask to his face.

"Yes."

"Gee, thanks," I rub the back of my neck in uncertainty, feeling fear inspire the uneven beating of my heart.

"I would not presume to lie to you, Valentina."

"You could have at least sugar-coated the truth," I retort, getting to my feet.

"Would that have comforted you any more or any less?" Sebastian's question leaves me silent as he, too, gets to his feet in a movement enviously graceful.

"Come. We should return to the masquerade." Sebastian extends his arm and I hook mine around it, walking at his side with him.

"Can I ask you a question, Sebastian?"

"If you mean to ask me two questions, then yes – I await your second one."

I make a face, not amused. "What will things be like if I form a contract with you?" I glance up at Sebastian's obscured face, hoping to catch a glimpse of his eyes. They are straight forward, looking ahead.

"I do not presume to know, mistress. All of that depends on the tasks you set out for me."

"That's not what I meant," I huff impatiently, rolling my eyes.

Sebastian's muted laughter reaches my ears, nearly making me blush. "Do you mean to ask if we will share the same connection as we did a few moments before, when we are bonded?"

I don't blush – I'm past that stage of being embarrassed. "That's exactly what I mean."

"A bonded demon is like a puppet – he performs the acts of his master or mistress, as he or she commands. If it what you so desire, then I will please you until you can handle no more."

_That_ has my cheeks pinkening. Every nerve on the arm that's hooked around his feels supersensitive, almost making me want to draw away.

"A bonded demon does whatever his master says?"

"Or mistress."

A smile appears on my face. "Would you do these things if I were a guy?"

"If you ordered me to, then I would have no choice but to obey. Gender would be no matter." I want to laugh – and also question him further. The way he speaks of being bonded with a mortal makes it sound like he has no free will of his own. Is that the way these things work?

I figure I will muster up the courage to ask him at a later date. As of now, his previous words still have me reeling with thoughts of all the possibilities – I may be in this for a contract with a demon, but I'm still a woman. And a girl's got needs.

The masquerade is still going strong when we get back. The two of us earn more than a few curious looks from the nearest patrons as to why we're arm in arm, arriving late, and when they see the noticeable purple and red bite mark on my collarbone – new lights dawn in their eyes. Several women turn and whisper to the ones next to them and give me scorching looks, but I could care less.

I don't see Ash anywhere, and my mood brightens considerably.

Sebastian doesn't say anything; he merely leads me straight to the floor and we meld in between other dancers, effortlessly melting into the movements. Dancing with Sebastian is mesmerizing and so easy – it's easy to get lost in the steps and keep going for several pieces.

The time for the first dress change arrives when the clock chimes seven, and I reluctantly remove myself from Sebastian. He wishes me off, standing in that characteristic pose I would recognize as belonging to him anywhere, before I head out into the hallway and locate my suit of armor.

My second dress is shimmering grey-silver, dipping low in the front and the back. Nearly invisible zippers keep the dress secured to my body in several places, for it would be quite the embarrassment to have it fall down during a dance! I choose this time to line my lips in a sort of pale white lipstick; one with a shining gloss that sets off not only my hair, but serves to meld together the black of my mask and the silver of my dress. This one falls to the floor in tapered lengths, making it easy to step on yet hard to miss.

We return to the ballroom in a wave of grand beauty – most of the men stop and awe at our grandeur. My dress earns curious looks; a color so muted is not often seen at events such as this. It seems that I'm getting a lot of attention tonight, and that makes me wonder just where Ash is. It's not that I'm upset he isn't around to ask me to dance or comment on my newest, more visible possession mark – no, I'm worried about his absence merely because of Sebastian's earlier words. Ash would harm me if the desire to do so came over him, and that makes me think he would still do the same under contract.

I'm thankful Sebastian is momentarily absent. I don't want to dance, even if it helps pass along the time. I'm glad tonight marks the end of dancing – the first two nights are devoted solely to it, while the last two are for making connections with your potential demon.

The creators of these masquerades polish and use their logic like this: dancing helps the demons and mortal women muster the courage to approach one another and familiarize themselves with the other. They figure two nights are enough for a demon to make his or her choice, so by the third night the ballroom is filled with couches and low tables lit with candles to create an intimate setting – because everyone knows low lighting is perfect for spilling secrets. The men who first instigated the masquerades ration that if you haven't an invitation to attend the third night then you're not wanted. Only those who receive invitations are allowed to return, else they travel to another masquerade and try their luck elsewhere.

It's all crass, and it's all catered to the demons.

I wonder if Sebastian will invite me to the third night of revelry. It's an exciting prospect – it'll be just the two of us, no interruptions, no Ash popping up to bother me. (Of course, 'popping' is the wrong word, but I rest my case.) I'm eager to find out what tomorrow night will be like, and how the ballroom will look. Mostly, though, I'm eager to find out more about Sebastian. Surely he has kept my interest with more than just his face – when he takes his mask off – and that has loads of significance in my opinion.

A hand touches my shoulder and I begin to smile, but when I turn I see it isn't Sebastian. It's Ash, finally having appeared. His mask tonight is ghastly – a melting face, eternally screaming. A shiver rockets down my spine and I want to run.

Ash's eyes zero in immediately on my collarbone and the possession mark there.

"I see Sebastian has wasted no time," Ash crosses his arm, looking none too pleased. "I daresay he has some nerve."

I haven't found the words to say just yet, so I keep silent.

"Care to dance, Valentina?"

I shake my head. "I have had enough of dancing for one night."

"Then perhaps you would honor me with a stroll through the garden? It's not quite dark yet, and I hear twilight casts a beautiful glow about the fauna." His eyes are locked with mine, and it seems like the people around us have slowed. A walk through the garden sounds wonderful… doesn't it?

I shake my head, but I'm unable to break my gaze from his.

"Sure," I find myself agreeing. My body feels heavy and slow as I settle my hand in his, quickly realizing Ash _can_ hypnotize, if only physically. My mind screams at me, but I can do nothing but walk with him towards the entrance doors slowly, as if attempting a walk through viscous sludge.

The gardens are near the tiny grove Sebastian took me to last night. It is a beautiful place – paved pathways wind between beds of planted orchids, roses, lilies and about a hundred more flowers I can't name without the help of a botanist. I can feel Ash's hand over mine and I can feel the heaviness of my body as my feet touch the ground, but really, not much else. My mind is still active and freaking out, but I can't will my body to do anything else.

Ash leads me to a stone bench behind a curve along the path. It's a little off the beaten trail and my mind frets that no one will be able to find us here, and I get the feeling that it's exactly what Ash's intentions are. He guides me to sit and joins me, pulling off his mask. It's the second time I've seen his face – last night, and now. I'll admit he looks a lot less frightening when not consumed with anger, but there is still a degree warning in his lavender eyes.

"What do you want with me?" I've discovered my voice still works perfectly – it's only my body that is the fluke.

Ash smiles serenely, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. "I want your task."

"My…task? I don't understand," I said. I wanted to be able to at least brush the hair off my mask and onto my shoulders to try and hide Sebastian's possession mark; which Ash had taken to glancing at every few seconds.

"I know why you want a demon consort, Valentina. Your intentions for your wrongdoers are malicious, dastardly and rather savage, if I might say so myself. I want you to let me perform them for you."

I can only laugh in response. "Surely you're joking," I glance away, fixing my gaze on a calla lily shining in the low light of the evening.

"I never jest of death and bringing it, dearest."

"You're not the right fit for me."

"I think you'll find while I can't mentally control your mind, I can do other things to your body to help you alter your opinion…" Ash's voice trails off and I see him lean toward me, brushing my hair away from my right collarbone – the site of Sebastian's mark. The fingers of Ash's other hand brush over the healing wound with false gentility, an unreadable expression on his face. I wonder just what Ash intends to do to me while my body is immobile, and the fear from those possibilities gives me the courage to vocally stand up for myself.

"Get away from me," I tell him, trying to hide the wavering in my voice. "I don't want you as my demon."

"No?" Ash says only that, pushing the hair over my other shoulder away. He curves his hands around my shoulders and leans in, kissing my collarbones as Sebastian had.

It doesn't feel the same.

Certainly the feeling of lips on my skin sets my heart to racing, but it is not tinged with excitement and desire. No, Ash's kisses make me feel violated and terrified – exactly as he would have me.

"Stop it!" I exclaim, wishing terribly for use of my arms. I would push him away with all my strength and run to find Sebastian; I know he is the only one who could keep me away from Ash and his harmful intentions.

Ash's mouth kisses over Sebastian's possession mark softly, as if to remove it as he had done the night before. He hesitates and then kisses the spot more firmly, two times. The blonde demon growls with frustration – is he unable to remove Sebastian's mark from my skin?

"Is something wrong? Can't remove it this time, can you?" I taunt him, seeing the way he sits up in one quick, anger fueled movement.

"That's enough from you, mortal." Ash stares daggers at the blemish on my skin, and I can almost see the cogs in his mind turning as he tries to come up with a second plan.

"Sebastian told me you wouldn't be able to take it off again," I explain to him, although he's hardly worth it.

"Why is that demon trying so hard to keep you from me?" His voice is a dark growl.

Night is falling faster now, painting everything a darker hue of indigo. My silver dress is a muddy brownish-black in this light; one that makes me frown.

"Maybe Sebastian knows something you don't," I comment breezily, unaware of what my words have ignited. Ash snatches my chin in his hand and roughly turns my head to face his, glaring into my eyes. His nails bite harshly into my flesh, breaking the skin. I feel a drop of blood patter onto my chest.

"And what would that be?"

"Perhaps that you are not the demon suited to her tastes."

Sebastian's deadly calm voice reaches our ears. I can't move my head and Sebastian's voice has come from behind me, so there is no physically rejoicing his presence. I think maybe Ash can see it in my eyes, for his jaw clenches and his lavender eyes flash to the other demon.

"Sebastian," he greets him coolly, "always a pleasure."

I can hear Sebastian's quiet footsteps as he moves closer, coming to a stop at Ash's side. I can see him now, and I'm able to read the peculiarly neutral expression on his face. His eyes are another story entirely, and as they've returned to roiling violet I can only assume his emotions are only barely restrained.

"I see you've restricted her body," the tall demon observes calmly.

"I wondered when you would show!" I cry, feeling on the verge of tears – very much unlike me.

"But not her mind. Tell me, Ash – do you still struggle with mastering that technique?" Sebastian's hand lifts and comes to a rest over his breast as he closes his eyes with a smug smile.

Ash clenches his fists and gets to his feet, folding them behind his back. "Not all of us are as gifted as you, Sebastian. I can see that this has been a wasted effort; something I'm sure you are very pleased with. Until next time, Valentina. I do hope you'll reconsider your decision." Ash turns and disappears around the curve in the path, leaving Sebastian and I alone.

The black haired demon takes Ash's place on the bench, taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger to tilt my head up, taking care not to brush over the tiny wounds from Ash's nails. He leans in and swiftly kisses my lips, lingering for just a single moment before pulling back.

I lift my hand to itch my shoulder – and then I realize I've regained use of my body!

"This is the first time I've _really_ had to rescue you, and I'm not even contractually obligated to," Sebastian muses, tapping his lips in thought. "I do hope this won't become a habit."

As much as I want to throw my arms around his neck and hug him in thanks, I hold myself back. Ash's earlier sentence had implied Sebastian could control my body _and _my mind, and it's left me wondering how much of it is true.

"Thank you, Sebastian," I look him in the eyes when I say it, wanting him to know just how grateful I am.

"Did he do anything or say anything of interest?" The note in Sebastian's voice cannot be mistaken for curiosity – it is fury. His eyes travel over the pinpricks on my chin.

"No," I answer. "He kissed my neck, and that was it."

Sebastian's mouth twitches in a barely-restrained snarl and the demon looks away. He takes my hand and helps me unnecessarily to my feet.

"Come," he removes his mask with one hand, tucking it inside the jacket of his tuxedo. "I think you ought to retire for the evening."

"No, Sebastian. I'm not helpless. For whatever reason, Ash is after me because he wants my tasks. I don't think he'll be lurking around me anymore tonight – he seems like the type who plans things out in advance before taking action."

Sebastian gently lets my hand go and crosses his arms behind his back, studying my face curiously.

"You have a lot more fire in you than I thought, mistress."

I sigh. "Please don't call me that," I insist. "At least not until we've established a contract."

"Oh, and before I forget – I would like to formally extend an invitation to you for tomorrow night's festivities. Valentina, would you do me the honor and come as my guest?"

A smile touches my lips, and excitement blooms in my chest. "I would love to." I hope my answer does not seem too eager, but if it does, Sebastian says nothing. He takes his characteristic stance, and then to my surprise gets down and kneels on one knee, for the briefest of instances.

When he stands again, that frightening ultraviolent has washed over the sienna-red.

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><p><strong>AN:** I'm usually not the best at cliffhangers, so you probably won't see them in my story... or any others really! =P If you enjoyed this doozy of a chapter, please review! I'm hungry, and nothing sates like a nice review or... five. =D


	3. demon, genteel

**A/N: **Recently I've started watching Kuroshitsuji 2... don't tell me I'm more than a little late! =P It's kind of confusing... but I love the hell out of it! And it's more than inspiring. =] If you like this chapter, don't be afraid to review it for me, please? I see a lot of story alerts, and few reviews... but who really reads these author notes anyways? It's like wasting time on eating your vegetables when you know there's an ice cream bar in the freezer you could have instead. :3

**Disclaimer: **Do I have to repeat myself? I don't own the Kuro characters. These things are so dumb!

**Warning: **Nothing of importance!

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><p><em>Tonight will be different<em>, I think. _Tonight I won't have to busy myself with boring dances._

Night three of the masquerade falls without a hitch, and it finds me dressing in a gown of emerald green. I've taken to coordinating my dresses per night – tonight I will use the forest and her colors as my muse. My mask tonight is a peacock's face – glittering gold beak, tiny cerulean and bright emerald feathers cover the face of the mask, essentially melting into longer, more detailed feathers that extend up and out. My mouth is free for speech, which is important for tonight, and I've lined my mouth once more in red.

I could tell Sebastian took a liking to seeing it on my lips.

My mark from the night before has faded almost completely, but if I touch the spot it once resided I feel a gentle tingle under my fingers.

When I step through the doors and into the ballroom, I gasp at the transformation the room has undergone. Rich red fabric swathes the walls and the chandelier that hangs from the ceiling is unlit. The light in the room comes from mounted candelabras on the marble pillars and from tiny candles set in red glass votives atop small, circular tables situated throughout the room. Some tables have chairs while others have plush, red loveseats upholstered in velvet. The orchestra has been reduced to only a few musicians; helping aid the intimacy of tonight's setting.

All of the demons stand near their own tables, waiting for their invited patrons. I search for Sebastian and find him at one of the loveseat tables, inspiring a lump to form in my throat. The demons are no longer required to wear masks, but we mortals still are. In this low light, his skin glows beautifully and his red eyes are like pinpricks of fire, scorching me where I stand.

My hand automatically lifts and rests on my chest – he is so dangerously breathtaking. When we are encouraged to do so, I make my way through the tables and reach Sebastian, feeling how my heartbeat picks up with every step. Sebastian assumes his greeting position and bows slightly, smiling placidly.

"Good evening, Valentina. May I be so bold as to compliment your dress and mask?"

I smirk suddenly, feeling arrogant. "I don't see why not," I laugh at my joke and see Sebastian's eyes dance with humor. The tall demon turns and gestures to the loveseat, inviting me to sit. I do so, smoothing my dress underneath me beforehand, as not to encourage wrinkles.

"I hope there were no visits in the night from a pesky nuisance?" There is humor in Sebastian's voice, and he seems to be in a better mood than the past two nights.

"Surprisingly, no!" I smile, folding my hands. Sebastian is so close to me – only a few inches away, and I have to lace my fingers together in order to keep them from trembling. What is it about this deadly demon that has my nerves frying with every second?

Sebastian's hand lifts and he takes my chin as he had last night, but it is only to examine the moon-shaped cuts from Ash's nails. They've scabbed unattractively over, and cover-up doesn't make them look any better.

"These won't heal properly without another demon's touch," he tells me. Sebastian licks his thumb and drags it across the wounds, smiling with I flinch back.

"Don't wipe your spit on me!" I pull back, wiping the back of my hand across my chin. Amazingly I feel no injuries whatsoever, and try my best to ignore the superior look from Sebastian as I do so.

"Are we going to spend these last two nights exchanging witty banter, or are we actually going to _connect_?" He says the last word with so much dripping sarcasm that I can't help but laugh at it, grinning wildly. I have no idea what to break the ice with next, but thankfully it's Sebastian who takes the first step.

"Valentina, I must know. What is your task that has Ash positively salivating to get it?" Sebastian's eyes fix to mine, persuading me to answer. My face darkens, and perhaps Sebastian sees it for his eyebrow lifts just barely. I don't answer immediately – a servant comes to our table and asks if we need anything, so I ask for a cup of tea. Sebastian orders nothing, and waits patiently for my answer.

"I told you before, briefly," I begin, watching the candle flame dance inside the red votive. "My parents, siblings and friends – everyone related to me or affiliated with me in one way or another were killed. Butchered like animals. It's the same group of people who do it, I know it is – they always send me a letter and a photograph when they've claimed another victim. The latest was my schoolteacher. I can't imagine _why_ they kill them; I only know that they do."

My tea arrives, piping hot, and I ignore the sugar to drink it black. Sebastian watches me silently, his eyes holding curiosity and muted horror. I'm not sure a demon can experience such an emotion, but something that resembles it is in his eyes.

"I need help – I can't do it alone."

"Help with what, mistress?"

"I'm going to kill them – the bastards who took everything from me. I'm going to murder them as carelessly as they did my Mother and Father… my grandparents… Revenge is an absolute emotion, don't you think, Sebastian?"

I glance up from my teacup and meet his eyes. Sebastian blinks slowly, a restrained smile forming on his lips.

"I can see now why Ash desired your soul so very much. You are tainted – tortured, and absolutely perfect."

I look away. Familiar anticipation washes through my veins and makes me tap my fingernails against the tabletop, only silenced when Sebastian places his hand over mine. I don't move my hand; I barely realize his hand is even there. My mind is consumed with thoughts of what is to come – eviscerating the men who wounded me so deeply will not be enough. Disemboweling them with a smile on my face will not be enough. Beheading them and mutilating their bodies _will not be enough_.

"Valentina," Sebastian tries for my attention. The dark thoughts lift and I turn my head, realizing now how closely Sebastian is sitting and just how his face is angled.

"Sorrow and loss are things I know very well," he tells me, curling his hand around mine. It is warm and solid – something I need to feel in order to keep me grounded. "As are murder, death and torture. I am well adversed in all of these things, and I can teach them to you if it is what you command."

Light shines in my eyes; the light of anticipating glee.

"You are my demon," I tell him, smiling darkly. "We will create our contract tomorrow night under the full moon and you will belong to me, Sebastian."

Sebastian inclines his head, lifting his hand to his breast. "Yes, my Mistress." Those violet eyes return when he meets my gaze, but this time I'm not afraid. Finally I understand what they mean – his dedication to perform every task to the best of his ability has them glowing.

Sebastian will be mine, and revenge will be exacted.

* * *

><p>The following night, when the clock gongs at midnight, contracts are made.<p>

"You understand what it means to forge a contract with one of the Devil's brood? Heaven and any sort of Paradise will be forever out of your reach. You will sink into the ground a soulless shell, forever damned and forever forsaken. Yet you still agree to these terms?"

Sebastian's voice is cold and practiced – his eyes ultraviolet. I've taken a seat on a moss covered rock, my eyes locked with his. The light of the full moon shines down on us; Sebastian standing before me, close enough to touch. My heart races impossibly fast and it feels like I'm going to throw up, but still I nod my head.

"I don't care about any of that. Take it all from me. My soul is yours, demon Sebastian."

Sebastian smiles, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth illuminated from behind by a strange, pale light.

"Then I'm afraid this will hurt, just a bit." Sebastian reaches out and tilts my head up to bare my throat, leaning in. "I will try and be gentle, mistress."

"No," I interrupt him. "Be as savage as you want. I'm going to deserve it."

Sebastian pauses and searches my eyes for a brief moment, before his violet ones flash quickly. I close my eyes and it only takes an instant to feel the pain – searing, white-hot burning that spreads down my throat and seeps over my shoulders. It stops just above my breasts and above my elbows, stealing all of my strength. I bite my lip, refusing to cry out in pain. Around me, similar cries are echoed as the other patrons of the masquerade form their contracts – so I draw in their pain and use it to keep me from uttering a sound. My mouth opens but nothing comes forth.

When I finally have the courage to open my eyes and look down, I choke back a sob of terror. My skin is etched with intricate patterns carved into my skin – delicate spirals and thick vines, all spreading from the center of my chest. A pentagram inside a circle dominates the space there; about as large as a teacup plate. The star is kept contained with a circle, and just outside of that is another made of curved, touching diamonds.

My breath catches in my throat – the sight of so much blood is nearly consuming my will to stay conscious.

"I am terribly sorry, Mistress. It will be over soon."

As blood drains from my wounds and stains my dress, my vision fades and the last thing I remember are Sebastian's arms curling around my body.

* * *

><p>When I finally come to, I am lying in my own bed.<p>

That realization startles me – my own bed? I try and sit up, but the pain stops me. It hits me like a truck and I moan softly, sinking back down onto my pillows.

"Mistress?" Sebastian's voice reaches my ears, sounding like an angel.

"S-Sebastian," I manage to breathe, curling my fingers around my sheets. "It hurts so badly."

I feel the sheets pulled gently down to reveal my shoulders and neck. The cool air feels wonderful on my injuries, which sting like fresh burns. I can feel the air on the entirety of my upper half and know I am naked from the waist up, but modesty is the last thing on my mind. Sebastian's hands work a cream into my skin and the feeling it brings is enough to make me sigh in pleasure.

"Your injuries will be healed in a few days, Mistress. But until then, let me help you to sleep…"

Sebastian's words are the last thing I hear before I slip back into darkness.

When I wake once more, I get the feeling it's been a long time since I was last awake. I am able to sit up with no problems, although the skin over my chest, arms and neck feels tight and stretched.

"Sebastian?" I call, wondering if he is indeed with me.

The demon appears in my doorway after the briefest of moments; his hand over his breast.

"Yes, my Mistress."

"What happened?" I reach up to run my hand through my hair, surprised my brown tresses aren't a complete rat's nest.

"I belong to you now, Valentina. Our contract has been set, the marks created and pain received. I am your demon to command, Mistress."

I glance down quickly, ready to blush before I see I've been dressed. I pull the shoulders of my nightdress down and see the healed scabs of many, many lacerations, looking to be long-since healed instead of just days old. I'm surprised to notice that instead of skin-toned scars like one usually gets after an injury, these scars are inky black.

"What is this?" I gesture to my chest and shoulders.

"Your mark, Mistress. I received two of my own here, inside my eyes. The mark symbolizes our verbal contract, and will remain until the time of your passing."

"Why here, though? Why my chest?" I can never wear shoulder-baring dresses, I realize, and this thought dampens my spirits.

"The more noticeable the mark, the stronger the bond. I daresay our bond will be nigh unbreakable."

I reach up to run my fingers over the scars, expecting ridged skin and sensitivity. Instead, my skin feels as smooth as it ever had. It's as if it had never been marred at all, but the black scars disprove that.

"I don't feel any different," I say, lifting my head to look at Sebastian. He's moved closer and just a hint of violet leaks into his eyes when he stands before me.

"I do," he says. "I feel stronger – impossibly so." Sebastian places his hand over his breast and closes his eyes. "You, Mistress, are the perfect fit for a demon like myself." He drops down on one knee again, remaining there for a moment.

"Now," he says, standing once more. "Would you like something to eat? I have prepared several things for lunch that I think will please you." He extends his arm towards the door, bowing slightly before offering his other hand to me.

"What are you, my butler?" I scoff, taking his hand. It's a little bit more challenging to walk than I would have expected, but I suppose my days of bedrest have drained the energy out of me.

"I can be, if it is what my Mistress desires."

"I've no need for a butler," I tell him, using his iron hand to steady myself as we move down the hall. I hate needing to rely on him in this way, but it's been quite some time since I've eaten and I know I won't make it down the hallway on my own.

"Do you see my home? It's too tiny to warrant a butler." Sebastian helps me sit at my small table. My eyes scan over the delicious things he has prepared for me to eat – tiny cucumber sandwiches, cut in the shape of triangles. A fresh green salad, topped with tomatoes, carrots and red onion, just the way I like. There are a few pastries set out, but they don't hold as much appeal to me as the pitcher of iced tea does.

Sebastian makes to pour me a glass, but I stop him.

"I'm not helpless," I snatch my cup back, earning a smirk from Sebastian. My arm shakes as I lift the heavy pitcher of tea, but I manage to fill my teacup without sloshing too much over the edge and onto the table.

Sebastian automatically wipes up the spilled tea, smirking when I shoot him a scorching look. He stands at my side while I fill my empty stomach, feeling better and better with each mouthful. By the time I'm finished, all my strength has returned and I feel brand new.

"Perhaps you would care to dress and ride into the city? I get the feeling there is something the Mistress would like to see there."

I turn my head, arching my eyebrow. "Do you know something I don't?"

Sebastian merely smiles serenely.

"You'd better tell me," I warn him, using the table to get to my feet. Sebastian looks aghast at such a suggestion.

"Now Mistress, what sort of confidant would I be if I spilled all my secrets?" The angelic look that passes over his face makes me want to smack him, so I ball my fists.

"I can order you to tell me, you know."

"Of that I have no doubt."

I sigh in exasperation and pick my way back to my bedroom, stumbling quite a few times. I feel Sebastian's hand touch into the small of my back, and he takes my hand to help me along. I'm not sure what it is about Sebastian's mark that is draining my strength, but I figure it will probably be just a few more days before I'm back to one hundred percent.

"Would you like me to draw you a bath?" Sebastian asks once I've settled on my bed. My scabs are burning, so I pull down the shoulders of my nightdress and hold it around my breasts to keep them covered. Sebastian's eyes widen and it makes me fearful to look down, but when I do I bite my lip to keep from crying out.

My scabs have opened up in several places, leaking a thick, yellow pus down my chest.

"Oh my god," I breathe, looking quickly back up to Sebastian. "What is this? What's happening?"

Sebastian comes close and sits on the edge of my bed, examining my wounds. He uses his teeth to pull off one of his white gloves and gently touches the pentagram in the center of my chest. His nails are black, I notice, and his fingers long and delicate-looking. His touch soothes the burning, almost as if his fingers have healing properties. Sebastian pulls a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabs at the leaking pus, wiping it cleanly away.

"You will heal," he says to me. "This is simply your body reacting to my demonic mark. It should take no more than two more days before it all stops."

"I thought I was already healed?" I ask, glancing over at one of my shoulders. Pus has crusted over a thicker spiral, turning my stomach at the look of it.

"Almost, young Mistress. Please bear it a little longer."

"I think I would like to bathe," I tell him, meeting his eyes. I see the mark in them; the circular pentagram glowing faintly violet in their red depths. If I weren't so close to him I would have never noticed it at all, and it helps to remind me that he is not human.

And I am now eternally damned.

Sebastian moves gracefully away, disappearing into the bathroom attached to my bedroom. My home is not grand or majestic in any way, but I do own a number of lovely, exquisite things. My family was always well-off, and after they all died I absorbed quite a few of their possessions and brought them to my home in remembrance. My bedroom is my favorite place – my vanity holds countless pictures of my deceased friends and family, all framed ornately in gilded gold.

I hear the water pick up and begin to fill the bathtub with a muted whoosh. Sebastian appears once more and pulls clothing from my armoire, setting it out on the oak chest at the foot of my bed.

"Shall I help you bathe, young Mistress?"

My cheeks flush at the idea, but I shake my head. "I can bathe on my own, thank you, but I would appreciate help with cleaning these wounds."

Sebastian bows, closing his eyes. "Yes, young Mistress."

I get up from the bed rather dizzily and go into the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub. Sebastian follows and kneels before me, setting the case of medical supplies he's found at my feet. I let my nightdress fall to my waist, uncaring of my exposed breasts. It gives me a secret thrill, knowing he's seeing my half-nakedness, but Sebastian has the decency not to look.

That is frustrating.

Once the tub is filled and I've gotten inside the warm water, Sebastian removes his white gloves and leans toward me, submerging a soft cloth in the water and wiping it gently over the markings. The crusted pus clings to the cloth, and once it's covered he repeats the action with a new one as not to sully the fresh bathwater. It doesn't take long before my seeping wounds are cleaned, and it feels loads better.

"When you have finished bathing, I will dress you and ready the carriage." Sebastian places his hand on his breast and bows, leaving the room and closing the door behind him quietly.

I sink down into the water with a sigh, letting it wash over my wounds. I wonder if I'm supposed to feel any different now that my wishes have been granted and a demon consort is now mine – certainly, I do feel more accomplished and established, but is this all I am to feel? It is a nice thing to know I can act out my darkest, innermost desires with Sebastian at my side, but now I think I'm starting to get cold feet.

It's pointless to back out now, because I have already promised my soul to Sebastian. I move my arms around the stretch my shoulder muscles, creating rippling waves in the water before I submerge my head. I hold my breath as long as I can stand, opening my eyes underwater for the briefest of moments before it stings them.

When my head breaks above the water, Sebastian is standing near the tub, wearing a peculiar expression.

"You have been in here an awfully long time, Mistress. I merely came in to check up on you." His explanation comes quickly after seeing the look on my face, and he looks apologetic. "Do you need any assistance?"

I shake my head _no_, reaching for the bottle of shampoo. "I'm fine." I tell him quickly, embarrassed had startled me.

"Please, allow me." Sebastian kneels at the side of the tub and sheds his jacket, rolling up his long white sleeves and using his teeth to pull off his white gloves. He takes the shampoo bottle from me and squeezes a dollop into the palm of his hand, beckoning me closer. I grudgingly turn and present him my back, pulling my hair up and squeezing the excess water from it.

Sebastian's fingers massage my scalp, and I'm glad I can sink down into the water up to my shoulders so he can't see the goosebumps on my skin. The rhythm of his fingers against my head feels unlike anything I've ever had done, and it has me closing my eyes and enjoying it. It's strange that he's here now; almost as if he's my caretaker. I certainly don't need anyone to look after me, but it's a nice thought to know he's here.

Sebastian holds the back of my head as he tilts my upper body to gently dunk my hair into the water. His free hand works through my hair and frees it from the shampoo, washing it clean. I try my hardest to keep my eyes on the ceiling, knowing Sebastian is looking at me, but I can't help it. I meet his eyes and there's a smile in them, as well as a lopsided one on his face.

I'm helped out of the tub and Sebastian wraps me in a long white towel, vigorously rubbing my arms and back to dry me. He does not go near the marks on my chest, probably for fear of hurting me, and grabs another towel to wrap my hair.

While I've been bathing, Sebastian has made my bed and picked up my room. I'm almost annoyed he's done these things for me without being asked, but I figure it's part of demon etiquette. A casual, light green day-dress waits for me on the oak chest, as well as a pair of opaque tights, a corset and a mink shawl to cover my shoulders.

"Do you know how to lace these up?" I tuck the corner of my towel under my arm and pick up the corset, waving it at him.

"I wouldn't be one hell of a servant if I didn't, young Mistress."

I frown – I don't like that title for him. "You're not my servant," I tell him. "You're just… you." A look crosses Sebastian's face before he takes the corset from me, turning me around. I let my towel droop just enough to cover my bottom half and tuck it in so it stays, grasping my bed post.

"Deep breath, Mistress. Tell me if it is too tight."

Sebastian wraps the corset around my middle and waits while I adjust it just so. I feel his fingers deftly lacing it up before the first sharp tug comes, jerking my body. I grip the bed post more firmly as he works his way further up, pulling the laces tighter and tighter. When I feel like my organs have all shifted, Sebastian finishes his task.

He picks up the underskirt from off the chest and kneels, holding it out for me to step into. I whip my towel off, a little embarrassed he's so close to my nakedness, but Sebastian tilts his head downwards as not to see. I use his shoulder for balance and pull the underskirt up, fastening the ribbons behind me. He slides the day-dress over my head and buttons up the back, and I see the need for the mink shawl.

This dress does not bare my shoulders as completely as my masquerade dresses, but it is close enough. It's long sleeved and dips down to right where my mark ends over my breasts. I would be quite a strange sight on the street if people were to see these markings, and it's possible they would assume I belonged to the Devil's brood.

Which, as of a few days ago, I do.

Once I am dressed and presentable for the day, I follow Sebastian outside and he lends me his hand so I can board the carriage. He has donned a long, black trench coat and a tall black hat, now suited for travel. Once I am comfortably seated, Sebastian takes a seat outside and reaches for the reins, steering the horses down the tiny dirt path away from my home.

It is a typical dreary England day – the grey clouds obscure the sun, but there is no denying it is there. Trees branches squeal against the carriage windows, scraping too closely to miss them. I'll need to get someone to widen this path eventually; it's almost too overgrown for even my small carriage to pass by. It seems Sebastian can do everything. He drives the carriage with no faults and keeps the horses calm when a wind picks up and rattles the bare tree branches, steering them confidently.

It takes quite a bit of time, but eventually the sight of London grows larger and larger. Sebastian tethers the horses to one of the designated posts in the shadier part of London, which has me wondering.

"What are we doing here, Sebastian?"

The demon offers me his hand and helps me chivalrously down from the carriage, closing the door behind me.

"I took the liberty in researching your task, my Lady. It seems the culprits are several of London's best known serial killers, but for an unknown reason they are targeting your loved ones. They are working together."

A heavy rock settles in my stomach and I pull my mink shawl tighter around my shoulders, shivering.

"Do you know who they are?"

"Unfortunately, I do not know just yet. Scotland Yard only has nicknames for them, but there may be a pattern in the killings other than a connection to you that they know nothing of quite yet."

"And what do _you_ know?" I turn to face him, lifting my eyebrow.

Sebastian smiles peacefully. "I know nothing."

I throw my hands up in exasperation. "Ugh, Sebastian! Why drag me all the way out here to tell me nothing?"

Sebastian's hand moves to his right breast, and he stands still. "Our errand is not yet over, my Lady. I have something I wish to show to you."

He begins to move forward and I hurry to catch up to him. The buildings in this part of London are all rundown and mostly abandoned, and it has my hair standing on end.

"Will we be safe out here, Sebastian?"

"You are in no danger with me at your side, Mistress." The calm tenor of his voice is soothing and helps to ease my nerves. We walk down several streets and turn into one exceptionally dirty alleyway that leads to a door; one that I'm sure hasn't seen visitors in years.

"What is this place?" There is a sign hanging above the door, but it's so weather beaten I can't read what it says.

"It is an old library. While you rest in bed healing, I took the liberty in searching for documents that will help us find those who are guilty."

"You did this without me?" I accuse, growing only slightly angry. I want to be everywhere he is when it comes to enacting my revenge, and I'm bothered he doesn't realize this.

"Does this make the Mistress unhappy?" Sebastian turns to me with an apologetic look. "My sincerest apologies, Lady Valentina."

I shrug it away and look once more to the old building. "Can we get inside?"

"If I couldn't break down a door for my Lady, what sort of consort would I be?" Sebastian grins and in a whirling flash kicks the wooden door in, where it lands with a heavy thump and a cloud of ancient dust. Sebastian dusts his sleeve and smiles serenely, offering to let me go inside first.

I step on the door and peer inside the dark building, letting my eyes adjust. Grey light shines through the broken windows, casting mottled patterns on tall, rotting bookshelves. Dust motes swirl in the light and when the door under my foot creaks, the flutter of leathery wings reaches my ears.

I shriek, jumping a foot in the air. "I hate bats!" I exclaim, yanking my hat tighter down on my head and rushing to Sebastian's side.

His soft laughter embarrasses me, so I step inside once more. "I don't understand why records of the murders would be kept in this place," I take a wide look around, hearing Sebastian join me.

"The records aren't kept here – they are all underneath. Scotland Yard are a careful lot – they have many condemned buildings just like this one scattered all throughout London in which to store records. The idea is a run-down shell such as this will deter thieves searching for important files; that is, if they can even find it."

I glance down and grimace, having stepped in a fresh pile of pigeon droppings. "I can see the appeal of a place like this," I comment dryly, hearing Sebastian's chuckle. "Is there a door to look for?"

"Yes. It will be well hidden, but I've already found it."

"Very good," I compliment him, glancing up. His red eyes glow with the praise, and a small smile situates itself on his mouth.

"Come. I will lead the way, but do be careful, Mistress. Some of the floorboards are rotten." Sebastian steps forward and carefully picks his way around piles of molding books and bird carcasses, and I take care to follow his path exactly. The ceiling above us creaks ominously and has dipped concave in several places, letting unfiltered light through the gaping holes. I gulp and pray the ceiling does not cave in on us.

On the far back wall behind an overturned bookshelf is the door we seek. Using his inhuman strength, Sebastian pushes the shelf aside easily and I struggle with the rusting doorknob, finally yanking the door open. The interior is dark and smells musty, and I get the sinking feeling I'll encounter more than one rat inside that room. Sebastian follows me in as I stumble blindly down a set of concrete steps, wondering just how we're supposed to find anything in this dark hole.

A light glows suddenly, catching me by surprise, but it is just Sebastian. He's found the candelabra and set ablaze the candle wicks, reassuring me that we won't be searching blindly.

Three tall metal cabinets are pushed against one wall, bearing thick padlocks. They are nothing for Sebastian's strength, though, and he rips them off with three horrible screeches. I set to work and pull open the first drawer, thumbing over the organized files.

"What are we looking for?" I ask him, pulling out several manila files and opening them. The dumpy library is an excellent place to hide documents such as this; the pages in this file are almost like new. The photo of a man greets me as well as a sheet of offenses so long it'd take days to sort through them all.

"Nothing like what you have. The files we want will be unnamed and nearly empty."

I toss the papers I have to the floor with a scoff. "That won't do us much good, then. Empty files that don't tell us much mean nothing, Sebastian."

"So you would think," he holds something out to me, looking almost smug in doing so. I take it, skimming over the carefully printed words. I don't understand most of it, but when I reach the list of known victims I gasp in horror.

"Martha Augustine, Franklin Augustine… Lynnay Augustine…" My voice trembles and fades and the paper blurs before my eyes.

"Are they kin of yours?"

"My parents... one of my sisters…" I'm lightheaded and the room spins dangerously before me.

"My Lady…?" Sebastian's voice inquires curiously, but it sounds miles away. Blackness swells up and consumes me and I feel myself falling, caught quickly by Sebastian's arms.

I do not resurface for some time.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hmm.. and here I go, creating a cliffhanger. It's not a very good one XD In the next chapter you guys get to learn a little of Valentina's past, and about the men who are targeting her. That should be some exciting stuff! =]


	4. history, gruesome

**A/N:** This chapter is depressingly short... :/ It's kind of a filler, really, but important all the same. I have been ridiculously busy with work lately that it isn't even funny, boo! I've tried to find time to write, but lately it just isn't available! But at any rate, I hope you readers and reviewers enjoy this little tidbit here! Big thanks to **NixxH**, who is stroking my ego like nobody's business! =P Oh, and in case the use of italics make it too difficult for you to read between the lines with, this chapter takes place in Valentina's PAST.

**Warning: **Hints of violence and parts that inspire graphic/gorey images.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned ANY of the Kuroshitsuji characters, my name would be Yana Toboso and this story wouldn't exist.

* * *

><p>"<em>Please, please stay quiet like bunnies, okay?" Mother's voice is deceptively calm, but there's no hiding the worry in her eyes. She tucks us away inside a cupboard and blows a kiss to the three of us, closing the door and plunging us in darkness. Her footsteps fade rapidly, and we are all alone.<em>

_I hug my two sisters close to me and shut my eyes, hoping they cannot feel the way I tremble or see the tears wetting my eyelashes. Lynnay sobs quietly to my left, and Siobhan shakes silently on my right. I am the oldest, yet still only fourteen – I must stay strong for their sake._

_A violent crash reaches our ears with the sound of Mother's scream, and Lynnay grips my shirt with a startled cry. I pet her head, smoothing her brown tresses in an imitation of Mother, trying my best to calm her. _

"_Mother says stay quiet like bunnies," I whisper. "You like bunnies, remember Lynnay?" _

_Lynnay, only nine years of age, nods into my side and sniffles. I don't think Siobhan understands exactly what's happening – she is only five. _

_Five men, all wearing identical black masks arrived unannounced, marking their arrival with excited whoops and yells. Two with black hair, one with wavy blonde, one bald and the other shimmering silver – they took my Father hostage and shot him in front of my Mother and I, forcing us to watch as they mutilated his body with knives and carved words into his flesh. It was only my quick feet that allowed me to escape and gather my sisters to try and lead them to safety._

_By the fortunes of the Gods, my Mother had managed to shake the men away from my sisters and I and tucked us inside a cupboard down in the basement. She was certain we would be safe down here – and she was right._

_For a time, at least. _

_For reasons I have never been able to understand, these man sought my family out once more. Several months pass and the first incident begins to heal in our minds. Our grandparents take us in with open arms, nesting us in rooms of our own inside their grand manor. Siobhan accustoms easily, being so young she is quickly forgetting the terrors of that night. Lynnay is quiet for some time but she, too, begins to heal._

_I cannot let things go so easily._

_Seeing the barrel of a gun pressed to my Father's temple… hearing the gunshot and seeing the blood fly… those images are seared into my memory forever. Watching the blonde man drag his blade across my Father's bare chest is something only monsters can force upon a little girl; young and impressionable, and easily frightened. That night was torture – and just as I've begun to hope it's all over, everything changes._

_Siobhan disappears six months after the murder of my parents and Scotland Yard is instantly accusing the black, masked men. Guards are posted around my grandparent's manor, but it is no use. Siobhan has already vanished, and no amount of sleuthing seems to work. _

_Five days later my youngest sister washes up on the shores of the Thames, stark naked and bearing the same insignia on her skin as was carved into my Father. The news is countrywide – the same family of little girls who've suffered the loss of their parents lose yet another loved one, and this time it is more gruesome. They say the murder of a child is an aberration and condemns the killer to an eternal life of suffering – so what is the _torture_ of a child?_

'_Augustine Family Targeted?' headlines read, printed on thousands of newspapers across the country. England is in an uproar, and countless Good Samaritans write letters of condolences. But not all of the letters we receive are heartwarming – during that time, five letters encased in black envelopes are delivered to my grandparents' manor. They lack a return address and bear no signed names, but we know who they're from. In place of a name is the insignia that both Siobhan and my Father wore on their skin – it is a circle, bearing inside the crudely drawn image of a stick figure with an upside-down triangle head._

_My grandmother is violently ill for several days upon reading these letters – they are declarations of things to come. Not one member of our family is specifically targeted next, but we all know we're not safe. Scotland Yard debates moving us to a safe, secured location, but my grandfather insists on staying in our home. He doesn't want to admit weakness to these predatory killers, and feels moving will do just that._

_But then he dies in a freak accident involving two colliding carriages. News spreads quickly that his 'accident' wasn't that at all – for burned into the wood on the underside of both carriages is that same insignia, growing more and more ominous with each passing day._

_His death is the last one associated directly with my family, but not the last death. A couple of weeks later two of my closest friends are found strung up from the ceiling of a local church, stripped naked and branded hundreds of times. There's no need to explain what image was burned into their skin._

_No one feels safe in London now – especially not those connected to the family. Old friends – once supportive and sympathetic – are now terrified and disloyal, and many of them leave the country altogether. The ones who "aren't afraid" are tormented by the men; hearing whispers and maniacal laughter in the middle of the night. My father's closest friend commits suicide, convinced he's the next target, and his note explains he could no longer take the scratching at his door in the middle of the night._

_Newspapers give the killers all sorts of stupid names: "Triangle Murderers", "Black Mask", "Tortured Five" and "The Insignia Killers". "Black Mask" is the only one that sticks definitively, and it's as though London feels better after giving these men a label. Jack the Ripper is less frightening with a name, right?_

_Wrong – terribly wrong._

_It's been almost a year since my parents' murder ignited the frenzy, and we're all beginning to think things have begun to finally calm down. No one is targeted and the only death is that of an old woman who passes naturally in her sleep. It starts to feel like I can breathe again, and Lynnay is finally smiling like she used to._

_But then a fire starts in the stable compound attached to my grandparents' manor and spreads to the house, consuming everything – including my grandmother – in its path. My sister and I escape nearly unharmed; convinced this is nothing more than an accident. Stables burn all the time, don't they? Only when that damned insignia appears on the charred ground where the house once sat, formed with my grandmother's bones, do we know everything is definitely not over just yet. _

_A brave, young detective and his family offer to take Lynnay and I in, as we're still young girls and utterly alone. Every remaining family member that hasn't been killed has forsaken us and fled for safer land, in safer countries. My sister and I are eternally grateful for his hospitality, and his young wife is beautiful. She looks like our Mother had before she died and Lynnay bonds with her instantly, eager for a motherly figure in her life._

_Every night as my sister lay in our new bed; I can't help but feel things aren't over just yet. I wonder when the Black Mask will quit – once every Augustine and those connected are wiped off the face of the Earth?_

_I'm haunted nightly by memories. My imagination plagues me and sends me dreams that wake me up screaming in the middle of the night. In some of the nightmares, I'm surrounded by the men. One by one they take their masks off to reveal faceless blobs of skin, melting like candle wax. Other times I'll pull off the mask myself and be greeted with the image of my own face… that is the dream that terrifies me the most._

_Lynnay and I know better than to assume we're safe. Even as Lynnay sits at their table and makes the detective's wife a necklace of uncooked noodles, I know we're not safe. My fears play out one night, when the detective's wife suddenly vanishes without a trace. She is missing for three long weeks before her body turns up behind an empty building, headless and naked. Her body wears the insignia as well, carved into her stomach. Stuffed inside the lacerations are the uncooked noodles from Lynnay's necklace._

_The detective is beside himself with grief, and I can hardly stand to be alive anymore. Everything is our fault – if we didn't bear the last name Augustine, our problems would cease to exist! I know it's hard for the detective to look at us every day and know we're the cause of his wife's death, but he doesn't have to much longer._

_He is found one morning in his bed with his eyes gouged out and stuffed inside his mouth. The crudely-drawn stick figure is drawn on his forehead with the blood that runs from his empty eye sockets, and that image is one that still haunts me when I close my eyes._

_Things continue to escalate until Lynnay disappears, and after she vanishes it's as if the Black Mask ceases to exist. There is no trace of Lynnay for years – not until I'm nineteen. Scotland Yard has beefed up their security measures, and I'm kept off the radar for years. Because of it, Lynnay's body is delivered to their headquarters instead of to me, as the note attached to her skull explains. Her skeleton still wears the clothes she had on when she vanished._

_It is shortly after that incident that I decide a demon consort wouldn't be too bad to have._

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><p><strong><em>AN: _**I promise the next chapter will be better. :(

Review, por favor?


	5. blood, sustenance

**A/N: **Hi hi! =P Whelp, welcome to chapter five! Haha, this chapter is also kind of a filler, but still important in its own right! I can't wait to put up some of the latest chapters - I know all of you readers are going to love them. =) Please, if you like my story, review it! It helps me keep going and makes me think I'm doing something right.

**Disclaimer: **Boo, hiss - I don't own Kuroshitsuji.

**Warning:** Mild violence, and LEMONS. LOL. (Why are they called that, anyway?) ((The good lemons come in later chapters... =P ))

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><p>I open my eyes.<p>

My body is sticky with sweat and my hair is plastered to my face. It's hard to breathe and my chest heaves when I shoot up, suddenly terrified. Wide eyes take in my surroundings – familiar wallpaper, familiar door, familiar demon watching me carefully.

I am home.

Sebastian comes to my side immediately, sitting on my bed and reaching out to me. His gloveless hand brushes the hair off my forehead and feels for my temperature.

"My Lady, you had me worried."

I let my breathing slow before I answer. "And here I thought demons couldn't worry," I joke weakly, earning a wan smile from him. Sebastian reaches for the bowl of water I see on my bedside table and pulls a washcloth from it, wringing out as much water as he can. He dabs the cloth over my face and it feels so gorgeously cool against my hot skin that I groan in delight.

"You were unconscious for just over a full day, Mistress. I have had plenty of reason to worry." I look into Sebastian's eyes and see he isn't lying – their red depths are cloudy with concern and his mouth is drawn in a tight line.

"I don't know what happened," I say, reaching for the bowl of water and taking the cloth from him to dunk it back inside. I don't squeeze as much liquid out as Sebastian had, leaving enough in so it will run down my face in cold, refreshing rivulets.

"I think, young Mistress, it was the file I gave to you that pulled you under." Sebastian touches my face and lifts my chin, staring through my eyes to my soul, I presume. Moisture wells up in my eyes as I remember, and I do my best to glance away.

Sebastian does not need to see me so emotional.

He takes the cloth back from me and gently dabs it down my neck and over my demon mark, wiping it over my shoulders and collarbones. His is quiet as his eyes follow his hands, seeming to think over something.

"Perhaps I should handle everything from this point on?" Sebastian's suggestion has me instantly bristling.

"No! I came for you requiring your _help_, not your complete service. I want to be an equal part of this. I want to make them suffer, but I want you at my side."

"Is that an order?"

I remove any cloth covering my chest and push Sebastian's hand away, sitting tall. "Sebastian, this is an order. You will not search for anything else without my knowledge and help, nor will you engage any of the murderers on your own. Do you understand?"

Sebastian's eyes glow ultraviolet and his damp hand covers his breast.

"Yes, my Lady."

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><p>I have the table cleared and the papers Sebastian found in the old library spread before me, letting my eyes skim over them. They don't tell me much more than I already know – five men in black masks on a killing spree, seeming to target the Augustine family. There are illegible bits of handwriting in the margins, faded with age. Judging by the brittle condition of the pages and the yellowed surface, I'd say this particular bunch was probably created when I was still young and the attacks were big news.<p>

Sebastian appears at my side, offering me a cup of steaming tea. I can tell by the smell alone that it's Earl Grey, so I grab it and sip as much as I can without scalding my tongue. He joins me at the table, always graceful, and reaches for one of the papers.

"Have you uncovered anything of interest?"

I shake my head. "I already know all of this," I tell him. Sebastian holds out one hand and I pass him the papers, letting him read the writing. I watch his red eyes as they move over the text, seeing the way they widen as he goes along. They flick up to me momentarily, and I remember what pages he's reading.

They're the ones describing the state of the victims when the bodies were found.

"All of this is… horrendous," he says quietly, with disbelief. "You certainly do deserve my help, Mistress."

I'm in no mood to dredge up old history, so I merely shrug and look into my tea. Sebastian is silent, but I can feel his eyes on me, studying every inch of my face.

"Valentina," he uses my name for the first time in ages, and it makes me look up. The pentagrams in his eyes are glowing noticeably and I find I can't look away from his gaze. "There is nothing that is not within my power. Rest assured that I can give you anything you ask of me."

"Thank you, Sebastian," I finally find my voice. I can't imagine why his words have created a lump in my throat, but it's one I can barely speak around. "That means a lot." I'm sure he's only telling me these things because he ultimately desires my soul, but for now I'll delude myself into thinking it's because he is genuinely interested in helping me.

"What is it you intend to do to these men when you find them?"

I don't need to hesitate to answer this question. "I'm going to murder them. There is nothing they deserve more than a horrible, painful death, and that's what I'm going to give to them. They will suffer, and I will sit and watch it. I'll listen to their screams with a smile on my face."

Sebastian's eyes are rooted on mine, glowing ultraviolet. His mouth is parted and a peculiar look dominates his face – it's almost as if he's enamored with what I've said.

"What are you staring at?"

Sebastian smiles, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "You are far more worthy than I give you credit for."

I don't exactly know what to say to that, so I keep silent instead. Sebastian rises and organizes the papers on the table into one pile.

"I think it's time to retire, Mistress. It is late."

I haven't noticed the darkness falling outside, nor the way sleep attempts to claim my limbs. While it is true I have spent some time unconscious, it wasn't a restful slumber. I drain the rest of my tea and Sebastian takes the cup, washing it too quickly for me to even begin to comprehend.

"Come, my Lady. I have readied your bed and lain out a nightdress for you." I follow Sebastian to my bedroom and remove my dress, turning so Sebastian can unlace my corset. I feel my breathing deepen with each set of laces loosened, and when it finally drops to the floor I take a deep, greedy breath. I intend to reach for my nightdress and pull it over my head, but Sebastian's hands slide over my ribs and stop me.

My breath catches.

"Sebastian?"

He does not answer. His hands drift over my stomach and he pulls me against him in one fluid movement, inclining his head so his chin brushes where my neck slopes into my shoulder. I feel Sebastian's breath on my earlobe and my heart threatens to stop.

"You are…" he murmurs, trailing off. He turns me around and his eyes burn into mine, glowing with inner light. Sebastian's hands move in a scorching path up my back to cup my shoulder blades and he licks his lips, moving his face closer to mine.

I'm frozen, unable to do more than blink in response. Sebastian strokes my jaw with one hand and grabs a fistful of my hair in the other, but the movement is not rough. It is impossibly gentle and light, and when he uses both hands to tilt my head back I know he's going to kiss me.

And when he does, Sebastian doesn't hold back. His lips are urgent and forceful and it makes me gasp in both surprise and pleasure. Just what are Sebastian's intentions?

Sebastian pulls away and kisses down my neck, bending slightly to reach my collarbones. Suddenly he bites the same place he had placed one of his marks and I shriek, attempting to move away. Sebastian's hands hold me immobile, and it's all I can do to try and ignore the way his tongue travels over the new wound, devouring my blood.

"S-Sebastian, what are you doing!" I exclaim, trying roughly to pry myself away.

"Sustenance," he murmurs. "Life. You have more of it than any I've seen before. I may have underestimated you, my Lady."

Once I'm free, I snatch my nightdress up and hold it against my body, pressing the hem against my bleeding neck.

"So you're a vampire too, now?" I'm admit – Sebastian is frightening me. What reason does a demon have to drink my blood?

Sebastian chuckles, locking his hands behind his back. "No," he answers me. "There are other reasons; much more important ones."

"Are you going to tell me? You can't just spring something like that on me," I tell him, crossing my arms. "Especially not when you start out like _that_."

Sebastian raises on eyebrow and a sly expression slides onto his face. "Like what, Mistress? You don't want me to drink your blood when I kiss you?"

My cheeks darken, and I realize Sebastian has a small amount of my blood smeared along his lower lip. As if he realizes it the same second I do, his tongue slides out and wipes it away almost sensually, keeping eye contact with me.

"Or ever," I tell him.

"Is that an order?"

I turn away from him, feigning annoyance. I don't want him to know the real reason – I really don't _mind_ it.

Sebastian's chuckle from behind me tells me he has caught on; ever perceptive. There is no hiding from a demon, it seems. I pull on my nightdress and ignore the bloodstains down at the bottom, careful not to touch my new cut and slide into bed.

"When will this damn thing heal up?" I ask him, watching the way he steps forward to tuck me in like my Mother would have.

"It will be gone in the morning, Mistress. Would you like anything to ease you into sleep tonight?"

I shake my head and sink against the pillows. Sebastian's eyes glow in the darkness of my room like two orbs of dancing flame, but their red depths do not make me uneasy as they once had. Perhaps I'm simply getting used to them now, or maybe I've come to enjoy seeing them. Sebastian's white-gloved hands flutter over my blankets, making sure I'm tightly in bed before he straightens.

"Good night, my Lady." He assumes his characteristic position and bows, bringing an amused smile to my face. He turns and walks gracefully from my room, and I am alone.

But I can't sleep. I toss and turn for the better part of the night, haunted by my memories. It seems fainting has brought them back with a vengeance, and it's all I can do to keep my eyes open. Every time I close them I see the detective's gouged eyes or my sister's mutilated body – and it causes me so much pain I feel tears in my eyes. I remember the last time I actually cried from sadness over these memories was many years ago, and this new onslaught of emotion has me crippled.

I lay in my bed, barely unable to move. It is hard for me to register when Sebastian enters my room, but I hear him knock and wait three patient seconds before coming inside.

"Can't you sleep, my Lady?" For all intents and purposes his voice is disembodied; I don't see him, even when I feel his weight on the edge of my bed. "My Lady?" His smooth voice repeats itself once more, this time with a little more concern in it. I know how I must look – stone still and lying on my back, my wide eyes unseeing as they stare at the ceiling. My cheeks are wet with tears and my chest heaves silently.

I let out an abrupt sob that breaks me from my trance-like state, turning my head towards Sebastian. The demon is but a cloudy figure, leaning closer to me with worry. I see his eyes and the way the moonlight illuminates his pale face – I have never seen something so beautiful.

"S-Sebastian…" I trail off, lifting my hand to my face. On the back of my palm is a small scar from years ago; rough play with the kind, young detective's dog earned me a sharp bite. It is the only scar I own that is of an innocent nature.

"What do you do when you're breaking?" I whisper. It's too late to keep him from seeing my tears, so I don't pretend to hide them. "How do you keep it together?"

Sebastian is quiet, but I see the way his eyes waver. "I do not know, Mistress."

For one reason or another, his answer depresses me. A new wave of silent tears trickles down my cheeks and I turn my head away, rolling onto my side so I won't have to look at him. There is movement behind me and I feel his hand on my hip.

"But I do know the easiest way to remedy your pain is through revenge."

I hesitate, glancing over my shoulder. Sebastian's eyes are like liquid rubies and the pentagrams in his eyes shine faintly.

"Would you like anything of me before I depart, Mistress?"

I sit up suddenly, hating the idea of being left alone. "Will you stay with me tonight? Don't leave me alone."

A smile touches Sebastian's mouth. "I'm afraid I don't know how to comfort a human woman," he admits, almost shamefully. I pull down the neck of my nightdress to reveal my markings and meet his eyes solidly.

"Stay and comfort me. That is an order."

Sebastian is silent as he removes his shoes and tailcoat, arranging himself on the bed; close to me but not touching, and to where his back is against the wall.

"Yes, my Lady."

I don't hesitate and move closer to him, leaning against his side. Sebastian is unsure when he lifts his arm and gingerly rests it over my shoulders, I can tell. It is obvious he wasn't lying before – Sebastian definitely does _not_ know how to comfort a woman.

I chuckle quietly and I know he hears it.


	6. orders, absolute

**A/N:** Sort of a double chapter - you'll see what I mean soon enough. =) I can't wait to finally get to the goood, gory parts! LOL. Surprisingly, I enjoy writing scenes where SOMEONE gets eviscerated... I'll admit that shamelessly. =P I feel like I should clarify that I need ALL sorts of reviews - great, you like the story. But what DIDN'T you like? What scenes would you like to see me work on? Flame me! (If you dare... maybe you'll end up disemboweled in my next chapter!) WINK WINK.

**Warnings:** Eh. Wait till the next one.

**Disclaimer:** I'm just about done with this sh*t...

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><p>Sebastian is still at my side when I wake.<p>

My head is in his lap and my blankets strewn at my feet, but I'm covered in his tailcoat for warmth.

"I did not want to wake you," he tells me when I sit up, letting his tailcoat fall off my shoulders. "I feared too much movement would have." I hand him his coat with a small smile.

"Thank you," I tell him. "You're not so bad at comforting after all."

Sebastian's red eyes flash. I can tell he's pleased with my comment, especially when he stands and kneels to me with his hand over his breast.

"My Lady," he murmurs. "Today I have secured for us a meeting with the old detective assigned to your family's case. He is elderly, but I have no doubt his memory strong."

I raise one eyebrow. "You did that?"

Sebastian smiles and nods once, closing his eyes halfway and glancing down at me. "For my Lady, I will do anything."

I roll my eyes. Still, I can't help but smile internally at his words – even though I'm sure he's only reacting in the way he _should_, I still can't help but feel something. Sebastian reaches for his tailcoat and puts it on slowly, easing his arms through the sleeves with grace. He buttons up his jacket and fixes his sienna-red eyes on my own green ones, sliding his gloves onto his hands and bowing ever so slightly.

"Mistress, we ought to ready you for the day. I shall draw your bath for you and afterwards, once I have dressed you it will be time to welcome our guest into your home."

I yawn, gathering my hair into one hand and letting it drape over my shoulder. "Do as you wish, Sebastian. Let's just get this day over with." I'm not sure what it is about the day's plans, but I'm not too excited for them. Of course, I want to learn all I can about everything involving my family's tragedies, but that doesn't mean it'll be easy to hear.

Sebastian moves into the bathroom and the water starts up, and when he returns I've gotten out of bed to follow him.

"I won't need any help this time, Sebastian. I don't know what possessed me to let you the last time."

"As you wish, Mistress. I will wait."

I close the door behind me, separating Sebastian and I. I take a deep breath abruptly, feeling my heart patter unevenly. Why does something so evil and damned have my heart reacting so? When the bath is ready, I let my nightdress drop to my feet and climb in. I don't want to take as long, yet at the same time I'm interested to see if Sebastian will come in and help me bathe. Of course, I don't need it, but just the thought of his hands running through my hair is enough to make my breathing hitch.

I can't hear anything outside of the bathroom, so I don't think Sebastian is there. Of course, he is very quiet, and I almost have no way of knowing if he's walking at my side unless I look. I wonder just how someone can be so very silent, but I suppose it all adds up to his inhuman nature. Sebastian is _not_ human – I have to remind myself this often.

I wonder what Sebastian spent the night thinking of. I know demons do not sleep and do not eat, so what does Sebastian do in his down-time?

I finish with my bath as quickly as I can, wandering out into my bedroom wrapped in a towel. Sebastian is waiting, patiently standing next to my perfectly made bed with his hands behind his back. He steps forward immediately and dries me off, rubbing the towel over my skin. I've gotten over the awkwardness of Sebastian seeing me naked; I can tell he does not look in places he should not. And why should he?

Ogling your master is not polite, and Sebastian is the epitome of polite.

Sebastian has lain out a dress of red and white chiffon and lace. It is one of my winter dresses, which means long sleeves and a collar that buttons tightly around my neck. It will hide Sebastian's marks very easily, and is not too dressy to welcome a guest into my home.

"I hope you do not mind, Mistress, but while you bathed I took it upon myself to ready the sitting room for guests," Sebastian tells me, in the midst of tightening my corset. I grimace, feeling my waist lose inches with every passing second.

"Not at all," I gasp for breath, hearing Sebastian's chuckle behind me. Is it possible this is amusing him? He helps me into my dress, quickly and efficiently doing up all the buttons that trail up my side. Once my hair is dry I pull it away from my face and braid it tightly, letting the long pleat hang over my shoulder.

"Show me what you've done with my sitting room," I tell him, leading the way. If I were someone of great importance, my sitting room would be the place where I entertained countless guests. I get about as much use out of that room as any; which isn't much.

Sebastian has turned the room around; transforming it to look as though I'm rich and influential. Every surface is polished, dusted and things rearranged to make the room 'flow'. I'm impressed – my fireplace looks better than it ever has before. He's even stocked the hearth and lit a crackling fire in it.

"You did all of this while I was _bathing_?" I ask, incredulously. Sebastian merely smiles, pressing his arm across his stomach in a formal bow.

"What kind of demon would I be if I could not tidy a room to my Lady's liking?"

I don't want to roll my eyes, but I can't help it. Sebastian grins at my reaction and his red eyes seem to glow from within.

"When can we expect the detective?" I glance outside the window and see the sun in the middle of the sky, albeit shielded with clouds. Sebastian pulls a watch from his pocket and I see now what's been attached to the chain all this time.

"At one, Mistress. It is nearly that time now. I have prepared tea and lunch for his arrival, and will serve it once he arrives."

"I've told you, Sebastian, I don't need a butler."

It seems like Sebastian's smile is apologetic when he answers. "I'm sorry, my Lady. I feel it is easier for me because I'm simply one hell of a butler."

I grin, breaking into amused laughter. "Is that right? Well I wouldn't want to crush your spirit, then. Do what you please to pass your days, but when the time comes to exact revenge, I expect your total focus. Don't let something like a dusty teacup distract you."

"Mistress," he begins, sounding almost disapproving. "I would never presume to allow a teacup to go unused long enough to warrant dust."

I laugh again; glad Sebastian can joke and entertain me easily. If he were as serious as Ash seemed to be I'm sure I'd lose it before a week of having him in my service.

The detective arrives shortly after one, apologizing profusely for being tardy. Sebastian had been right; he is elderly, but not so much so that he is incompetent. His mind is still sharp, I learn quickly, when he comments on Sebastian's 'otherworldly efficiency'. That earns a smile from the demon – and nothing more.

Sebastian presents the detective to his chair near mine and takes his coat, top hat and cane, disappearing into another room with them. His graying hair is slicked back and the wrinkles in his face all show evidence of a hard life, yet he is dressed finely in a tailored suit and shining shoes.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Valentina. I'm not sure if you remember me from years ago, but I am Detective Arnold Chauncer. I was close to retiring age when assigned to your case, and you were just a young girl at that time."

I smile, remembering his name. "I do," I tell him. "It has been quite some time."

"I'm glad to see you're doing well," he says to me, leaning back in his chair. "Time definitely seems to have been kind to you. You have grown into a beautiful young woman."

"Thank you, Detective Chauncer."

"Please, call me Arnold. I'm not sure if you're aware, but I'm very well acquainted with your family."

His voice is kind, although I can't help and frown at his last sentence. I don't want to answer him rudely, but I don't see how there can be any acceptable answer to his remark. Thankfully, Sebastian enters the room pulling a silver tray, topped with a tray of food, a teapot and twin teacups.

"Please excuse the interruption, but I have prepared lunch for my Lady and the detective," he says, bowing with respect.

"Not at all, lad. Continue on."

I grin wildly, catching Sebastian's eye at the detective's use of 'lad'. Chances are good that Sebastian has lived to see ten times as many lifetimes as Arnold. Sebastian pours the tea and sets it in front of us while Arnold rummages through a leather bag he's brought with him, pulling out a file of papers.

"I've brought with me things you'll like to see," he says, leafing through the file. "It is my understanding that you're working with Scotland Yard to help catch your family's killers?"

I send a quick look to Sebastian and the demon merely offers me a small smile, not meeting my eyes.

"Yes," I reply quickly, hoping Arnold doesn't catch my initial hesitation.

Arnold nods firmly, grunting. "A fine idea. Who better to bring into the case than you? You have seen it all, poor girl. My condolences go to you a thousand times over."

I swallow, picking up my teacup and tasting the tea Sebastian has brewed. I can't recognize the brand, but it is sweet and heavy all at the same time. I don't want Arnold to see any doubt on my face or hear it in my voice. I need him to think I've lost all feeling toward this case.

Sebastian exits the room quietly, and it is just the detective and I.

"I've brought with me everything I ever collected on your case," he tells me, setting the thick folder on the table between us. I eye it hungrily but make no move to reach for it, allowing Arnold to continue speaking. "It contains everything you'll need to _know_, but it won't do you much in locating the killers. I've got profiles on five different men, coroner reports and extensive detailing on every murder with site specific information. It includes multiple theories on their use of insignia – such as placement on the bodies and around the crime scenes." Arnold breaks from talking, sipping from his tea and grunting with approval.

"Excellent tea," he says. "You have a fine butler if he can brew something so tasteful."

I'm sure Sebastian can hear every word, and I'm _sure_ he's inflating with pleasure.

I take the thick file, pausing. I don't want to open it just yet, but if I don't it could signify weakness. Already Arnold's sharp gray eyes are watching me carefully, so I open the file and thumb through it, numbing myself. Arnold isn't joking – everything is here. Graphic photos of my family members and friends meet my eyes; I can't handle those just yet, so I keep thumbing through.

Most of the pages contain tightly scripted writing. All of it hurts my eyes, so I close the file and save it for later. Sebastian's eyesight will surely be able to handle more than mine.

"Thank you," I offer him a gracious smile, handing the file off to Sebastian, whom has appeared silently at my side. He folds his arms behind his back and takes a few steps back, standing quietly. Arnold glances at him and back to me with a question in his eyes.

"You do not mind if your butler overhears our conversation?"

I stifle a smile. "Sebastian is more of an associate, if you will, rather than a butler."

"An associate? How so?"

"He is a close, personal friend of mine." I make it clear with the tone of my voice that no further questions are desired, and Arnold seems content to leave it at that.

"Very well. As you have heard, the last victim involved with your family was Mrs. Faye, your primary school teacher. What I can't understand is why she was targeted – especially when it has been years since she last spoke to anyone in your family."

"I can't fathom it either," I answer, shrugging my shoulders. "Perhaps the killers simply intended to wipe anyone affiliated with my family out."

"But _why_?" Arnold's voice is strained. It's clear he's spent far too much time thinking over this specific question.

"I haven't been able to come up with a conclusion just yet, either. I'm certain it won't take too long." I send a cursory glance over my shoulder to Sebastian, and his violet eyes meet mine. Those feline slits devour my gaze, but I don't hold it long lest Arnold catch sight of it.

"You were always intelligent," Arnold tells me with a grandfatherly smile. "I have no doubt you and your associate will work it out."

I hide my grin behind my hand, unwilling to let the detective see. Sebastian and I are the only ones who need to know the plan for my family's murderers, for I'm certain if Arnold were to catch wind of the plans I have working out, he'd lock me up.

"I appreciate you taking the time to visit my home, Arnold. I do hope your good health continues," I reach across the table and place my hand on his arm, smiling.

"You're very welcome, Valentina. You have always been fortunate, and I foresee only good things in your future."

My smile disappears, but only for a moment.

"Thank you, Arnold. I do hope you're right."

* * *

><p><span>SEBASTIAN<span>

_Her soul is perfect._

_I have never before come across a soul with such violent desires; completely untainted by the malice at its core. The instant she passed by me I knew she was to be mine – the attraction of her soul is second only to her beauty. And she truly is beautiful; her creamy pale skin akin to moonlight, dark hair like the richest bar of chocolate and green eyes that shine like emeralds. Of course, none of these things can compare to the sinuous length of her curves or the way she simply moves._

_As a demon, I do not expect I should be enticed by such temporary things. Perhaps I have been entwined with the mortal coil for too long, for the beauty of a woman is as tempting as the allure of a ripe soul to me now. Although I cannot deny there is something else that draws me in… and it is the undiscovered savagery I can sense lying dormant within in her._

_It is my job to awaken that unbridled hatred and shape it; to mold it within my capable hands and turn out one of the most despicable creations I have ever formed. The rewards for something like that are innumerable – not only will it help mature her soul, but it will push her closer to me. I want nothing more to possess more of a connection to her, for I fear it is only a matter of time before my carnal desires overcome me – and her._

_Too soon and it will kill her._

_Too late and it will drive me wild._

_Already I can see her writhing underneath me; her body stretched and arched, rosebud mouth pursed, eyes half-lidded in ecstasy. The fantasy has my every sense shivering in anticipation… if only she knew of the things I have planned for her. It will be too easy; it does not take a genius to interpret the looks she gives to me or the things she says around me. I will not feel bad about it either, for the words Valentina spoke to me before her marking were completely right: she is going to deserve every mote of pain I bring her._

_I will see to it._

_But as horrible as these things sound, my intentions are not all so foul. Certainly I want to harvest her soul and devour her, but that is not all. Our binding contract will not allow me to fail the tasks she has set out for me – and this contract, I fear, may be the strongest yet. Valentina's marks are the most prominent of all I have ever been in service for, and therefore the toughest. There will be no breaking or altering it with a simple command, unlike a certain young master of mine from the past. My Lady is stuck with me until her wishes have been fulfilled._

_But she will soon find that I am more than what I seem – surely she sees my outer evil reflected in my eyes, but I am more than that. Valentina has no inclination of my true power, and I know once she catches just a single glimpse her idea of me will be forever changed._

_And it is simple to say I cannot wait for that moment._

_By now I would be able to sense her soul anywhere; even if she were taken to the other side of the world, I could locate her easily. It is as if her soul is braided with the very fabric of my being. It is increasingly difficult for me to keep my control around her, but I will manage. The more often she has me dress her the greedier I become. She does not think of me as her butler, but it is easiest for me to assume that role – and a butler must never look at his master with longing and desire._

_It is impossible for me to do this._

_Her soul is perfect for me – and it calls to me. It is getting more and more troublesome to wait for the revenge she seeks and for her soul to age to perfection, so for now I must resort to utterly demeaning tactics to whet my appetite. Her blood will do for now – as much as I hate it. It is almost as if simply being around her is starving me; never before has this happened. I have to keep the monster inside docile by devouring her blood… when I kiss her, I cannot help myself._

_The desire for her flesh and body is an irresistible pull._

_The consuming want for her soul is impossible._

_She must not know of the danger she puts herself in when she gives me these looks._

* * *

><p>I have organized the papers Arnold gave me into two piles – the pages I can look at easily, and the ones I'm not sure of just yet. Sebastian is in the kitchen, silently cleaning up from Arnold's visit. The paper in my hands paints for me an uncertain picture; dozens of theories play out, all attempting to illustrate reasons for the attacks on my family. A few of them speculate it is all sheer coincidence – but I know better than that.<p>

Everything has been orchestrated for a reason – but that has yet to be determined.

Two of the theories propose that _I_ am the target, and that sends a shiver down my spine. What could five total strangers want with me? The idea that I know the killers is tossed around on these pages as well, but they are quickly eliminated. There are virtually no suspects listed, and those that were are now dead – targeted by the five killers and taken out.

"Perhaps they are a cult?" Sebastian's smooth voice sounds close to my ear, making me jump. "Look at the symbol," he shuffles through several pieces of paper until he finds the one displaying the triangle-head stick figure, encased in his circle, imitated and definitely not the same as the original.

"In history past, there have been several killers widely known for their use of insignia – and what do they all have in common? Cult memberships." Sebastian slides easily into the seat previously occupied by Arnold; his eyes moving over the paper.

"I don't know anything about serial killers," I admit, returning my eyes to my own paper. I'm much more interested in memorizing these theories than hearing Sebastian's. "You're distracting me."

Sebastian chuckles and I feel his gaze on me, but I don't return it. There's too much on my mind at the moment, and letting myself get swept up in his violet eyes is _not_ on the agenda. Lately it's been all too easy to forget myself and stare at him; I must have done it ten times this morning alone. I know he sees it – Sebastian is probably one hundred times more perceptive than I am and therefore, hiding anything from him is next to impossible.

But just for kicks, I unbutton the top half of my dress that keeps his marks hidden and show them off, basking in the way his eyes devour the sight. Nothing that is inappropriate is bared, but I can tell Sebastian likes to see his demon marks on my skin. And it's almost as if I feel more connected to him when they aren't concealed behind my clothes. Victorian England is an easy society for hiding skin – in a century where long sleeved ankle-brushing dresses are all the rage; I have no worries of anyone accidentally seeing the marks.

I turn my attention to the pile of face-down papers – the one I've been dreading to look at. They're photos of the crime scenes and bodies, but I think that because it's been years since I've last seen a corpse I will be fine.

That is my hope, anyway.

"My Lady," Sebastian tries for my attention, and I look up. "Perhaps you would like me to look over those?"

I shake my head, not quite realizing how tightly I'm holding the files. My fingers crinkle the edges of the papers and I loosen them, instantly contrite.

"I'm fine. I don't need you to do this for me."

The demon's eyes blaze ultraviolet for a millisecond, so quick I almost don't catch it. He closes his eyes and dips his head slowly in a silent answer, returning to the pages he has in front of him.

I flip my stack over and stifle a cry. When I'd separated the papers, I had purposely blurred my vision as not to see anything gruesome. But now that it's time to actually study the images, I almost can't do it. The first handful are graphic black and white photographs of my mother and father, taken just hours after death. My father, on his knees and hunched forward with a bullet hole through his temple; his shirt torn open to bare his carved chest. That horrible insignia looks just as terrifying in grainy black and white – and the photo brings back fresh memories from that night.

A painful wave washes over me and locks up my body, keeping my eyes glued to the image. I see everything as if it was that night – _the brown haired man lifts his head slowly until I'm sure his eyes are locked on mine, positioning his hand over my father's chest. He is still alive at this point, forced to kneel with his hands tied behind his back and calmly waiting for his end._ I realize now my father is the strongest man I have ever known in my entire life, simply due to the fact that he was able to rein in his terror as not to scare me. I was there, after all.

I feel Sebastian's curious gaze, and it is able to bring me back to the present. With renewed strength I set the page down, borrowing courage from my deceased father in order to press on. I never found out how my mother died, so this new image is very difficult for me to see. She was executed much in the same way as my father, although her wrists and ankles were bound and a gag smothered her mouth.

_I can hear her screaming – the sound of a brief scuffle and her voice dies abruptly, but something tells me she is not dead._

_I hold on to that breakable knowledge until a gunshot echoes through the house and extinguishes my hope; quenches my will to live like water to a flame._

My mother is on her side; her hair splayed out around her head and matted by the pool of blood that comes from the wound at the base of her neck. She died in her own blood, hog-tied and no doubt scared witless. I don't know if she was given the insignia before or after her death, but they decorated her arms like tattoos.

I feel my stomach rolling dangerously, but I swallow hard and will myself to keep on. If I'm not strong enough to look at pictures of death then how can I expect to deliver it?

The next picture is Siobhan. I only heard details of her death; I had never seen it firsthand. Looking at the photo of my baby sister makes my heart ache something fierce; her tiny toddler's body is discolored and water-logged. She has bruises decorating a good portion of her skin. Any unbruised part of her body is carved like a turkey – that damned stick figure with his triangle head mocks me. Instead of sickening me it only fuels the fire of rage in the pit of my stomach, and I find my fists clenching in anger.

By the time the photos of my two friends come up, I'm feeling a lot less sick than before. Just as in the stories I was forbidden to read in the newspapers, their nude bodies are strung up in the pulpit of a church, hung by their necks. It's difficult for me to see the oozing burns covering every inch of their bodies, but I stomach it. It helps to think of them as nameless victims instead of Elizabeth and Anne.

Before I rip up the files, I toss them onto the table.

"Mistress, if it is too much…"

"No," I say, forcefully. "It's only making me angry."

Surprise flashes in Sebastian's eyes – I'm sure this isn't the response he was expecting. He glances down at the files and reaches for them himself, studying everything with a steely, expressionless look about his face. Black hair falls into his eyes and his jaw clenches, but other than that he remains unimpressionable. It's difficult for me to get a read on his thoughts.

"What will you do now?" He asks suddenly, looking up. Sebastian's eyes are roiling ultraviolet, and the tone of his voice has me wondering if he's waiting for a command. I carefully expose all of my marks and look him straight in the eye, sitting tall.

"This is an order," I begin, hearing the strength in my own voice. Sebastian's face lights up – almost imperceptibly – as he waits. "You will find the name if the first killer – and you will do it by tomorrow's end."

Sebastian smiles darkly, moving from his chair into his kneel quickly, placing his hand over his breast. He dips his head but his eyes are on mine when he replies.

"Yes, my Lady."

My only reaction is to watch from my perch in the chair and smile.

* * *

><p>I am alone the next morning.<p>

I don't worry, though – the feeling that Sebastian is out working on my orders is very strong. And besides; it is almost nice to know I have my home to myself. While I can't deny Sebastian's presence has grown on me greatly, I still appreciate my privacy. It's been quite some time that I've lived alone, away from society and the people that even having another in my home is foreign.

I do not get mail very often, so when the postal carriage rolls to a creaky stop outside it gets my attention. The carrier knocks on my door impatiently and leaves a parcel on my doorstep because I don't arrive in time. It is an unassuming package, wrapped in brown paper and held together with twine. It's only about as big as a piece of paper, but it is thick. I lean against my doorframe, undoing the numerous knots and letting the brown paper fall away to reveal a stack of papers.

Mysteriously, they are all blank. I flip through them a few times, growing confused until I reach the last page. A black rose, presumably pressed flat between two thick books, is glued to the page. Delicate, fancy writing fills the page; so loopy and scrawled I can barely read it. It takes several tries before the words actually begin to sink in, and when they do I feel my knees give out.

I sink to the ground with the paper shaking in my hands.

_"Can you imagine if these pages were filled with photos of the ones we've slaughtered? We can picture it. In fact, we have a book filled with such. Would you like to see it, Valentina? It won't be too hard to compile photos for you… although, we will miss them dearly. Can you believe you are the last surviving member of your family? It's hard to fathom that your weak spirit has kept you from exacting revenge for so long. We won't have to wait much longer, though! Your accomplice definitely seems capable of doing what you cannot – will you send him to do your bidding? None of us will think any differently of you when you don't show. Rest assured, your life is safe from us… for now. We will give you exactly two weeks, Valentina, and if you've taken no action we will initiate it. You have grown into a beautiful woman, and it will be too sweet to stain the earth with your intoxicating scarlet blood."_

I feel the color drain from my face; the papers flutter to the ground.

The threat in this letter is all too obvious, and the deadline to act immobilizes me.

"Mistress?" Sebastian's voice reaches me – sounding like blessed music. I know I don't have to respond for him to find me, and when he does he kneels in front of me with a worried expression.

"My Lady," he murmurs, taking my chin in his hands and lifting it to see my eyes. I pull my head quickly away, unwilling for Sebastian to see my moment of uncertain weakness. I reach for the letter on the ground and get to my feet, heading inside and beckoning him to follow. I stalk through my house, heading for the kitchen to get myself a glass of water.

"I am not weak," I growl to myself. Sebastian hears me, of course, but my words are for my benefit only. I face away from him, staring hard out the window above the sink. Sebastian waits silently, content to let me speak before he says or does anything. But the longer I stand in silence the quicker his patience wears thin, until finally he speaks.

"Mistress?"

I turn around, letting my empty cup clatter noisily into the sink basin and hand him the letter. This time it is Sebastian who is quiet while _I_ wait, and I'm growing irritated waiting for him. He carefully works his features into an expressionless mask, and his sienna-red eyes drift over the paper quickly. When he looks up and meets my gaze, I glance away, curling my fingers around the edges of the counter.

"I guess I don't have to tell you who it's from." Undoubtedly he sees the insignia in place of a signature. Sebastian makes no sound. Out of the corner of my eye I see him pluck the dried black rose from the page, holding it between two fingers. I hear a quiet sizzle, and the petals of the rose crumble to dust, drifting to the ground like ash.

"Despicable," he says smoothly. "To threaten my Lady." He drops the rose stem to the floor and sets the letter on the table. I look down at the floor, trying to distract myself with anything but the intensity of his gaze.

"Is this the first time they have contacted you?" He looks over his shoulder to where the letter sits, unassuming yet full of malice.

"I've kept myself well off the radar," I tell him, "for this very purpose. But yes, this is the first time anyone's gotten my address."

"Then you will be pleased to know I have found the name of one of the five who murdered your family."

I wonder if Sebastian can see the tainted light that blooms in my eyes at his words. I release my grip on the counter and take a step forward, my face aglow.

"You will have your first dose of revenge as soon as you give the word, my Lady."

"Tonight. We will go tonight, Sebastian."

Sebastian places his hand over his breast and closes his eyes, dipping his head slowly.

"But there is one more thing I need to make very clear to you," I begin, lowering the shoulders of my nightdress to bare Sebastian's marks. His eyes open and glow ultraviolet, waiting for a command. His eyes zero in on my marks and then lift to my green gaze, utterly still and patient.

"You will not let me fail tonight, Sebastian. I will get the names of the other four from this man and we will take each and every one of them out. And when that task is finished, my soul is yours, understand?"

The pentagrams in Sebastian's eyes push forward and glow white, and his responding smile is dark.

"Yes, my Lady."

Those feline-slit pupils grab my gaze and refuse to let it go.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Two orders in one chapter - Valentina is getting bossy. =D


	7. mistress, violent

**A/N: **Ahh, it feels good to update. LOL.

**Warning:** Finally, a use for this thing! This warning is for two of the best: high amounts of gore _and **"tasteful" **_smut, haha. Woo!

* * *

><p>The wind tears into my face, quite nearly numbing my senses. Sebastian holds me in his arms, leaping from rooftop to rooftop as we cross through – over, rather – London. Matthew England is the name of the first killer, and his shanty home lies on the outskirts of Whitechapel. It hadn't taken Sebastian long at all to unearth the rest of the details of this man, and we had set out directly after the sun set.<p>

Our journey lacks the presence of snow, making the going easier. In this part of England, October snow is quite common and it's rather strange that it is missing. Clouds have gathered overhead, promising something, but I hope the weather holds off for just a little while longer. Sebastian and I are not quite dressed for snow at any rate.

Before long, Matthew's home comes into view. He lives in the woods in a house so decrepit that I'm amazed it's still standing. Light shines from one of the windows, telling us Matthew is home, and it makes my heart beat as though it's trying to break free from my ribcage. Sebastian sets me down just outside his front door, and as my feet touch the dirt a frigid rain begins to fall from the sky.

"Rain," I grumble, looking down to check my dress. I didn't want to make tonight too overly-dramatic, but I still want to make an impression. Nothing is quite as sweet as death delivered by the hands of a beautiful woman – or, so they say.

I don't want to waste any time, so I step up onto the front step and take a deep breath.

"Do you remember the plan?" Sebastian has leaned down and murmured into my ear from his stance behind me.

"How could I forget?"

I glance over my shoulder after hearing Sebastian's chuckle and take in his appearance. We've dressed in elegant wear – he's got on a long coat with shining silver buttons, a top hat circled with a charcoal ribbon and holds a thick trunk with a handle, dressed as if he's aristocratic. My dress is the finest I own; gentle waves of chiffon and silk wind around the full skirt, meeting a bodice of smooth red silk crusted with diamonds around the neckline. I have on a black mink stole to keep my shoulders hidden.

I have no doubt Matthew will recognize me by appearance alone, so I've donned a large, floppy hat with a brim long enough to fall into and shield my eyes. I'm certain Matthew won't recognize me until I want him to. I'm loathe to let the mink stole get wet, so I quickly knock on his door. It takes a moment and several disembodied thumps, but finally someone answers the door.

"What?" A voice snarls angrily. Light from inside washes over my dress and I lift my head just enough to where my mouth can be seen before I bother speaking.

"Excuse me, sir, I hate to be a bother," I begin, carefully disguising my voice into the delicate timbre of a frail, breakable woman. "But it seems we have gotten caught in this storm. Would you happen to have lodgings for two for the night? Rest assured I will pay you for your troubles," I let a tiny smile grace my mouth, and judging by the lack of answer I'd say Matthew is considering my offer. Both Sebastian and I are dressed in such a way as to not-so-subtly hint at money.

"Come in, come in, out of the rain. Both of you." It amuses me that the tone of his voice is a lot less hostile – now that he knows money will be exchanged for his 'kindness'.

"Thank you, sir. Very kind of you." Sebastian's voice weaves a soothing melody, reassuring the soon-to-be-dead murderer that everything is all right. I hear the door shut behind us and Matthew's footsteps move away, so I turn around to face Sebastian and lift my head to meet his eyes. The look in them is fascinating.

Sebastian lifts the hat from my head and carefully brushes away any water before hanging it on the wall behind us and turning back to me.

"Are you noble, did you say?" I'm simply amazed how quickly Matthew's attitude changes at the mere mention of money – it makes me sick.

"Aristocratic blood. But if it is all the same to you, my colleague and I would prefer not to discuss my roots." Sebastian winds the mink stole off my shoulders and rests it on the back of a chair, arranging my hair just so before I dare to turn around. The way his hands skim over my shoulders quite effectively bares my marks, and I know Matthew sees them.

"What happened to your shoulders?"

I wonder if he's close enough to completely discern every different swirl of vine or prick of thorn, and when I hear him take a few steps toward me, he is stopped by the warning heat in Sebastian's glare.

"I was in a happy accident," I tell him, rolling my shoulders to draw his attention to them. "The scars healed too dark for my tastes."

When I turn, I see Matthew for the first time. I estimate he's in his late thirties, and he's graying already. Lines on his face are evident to a long, stress-filled life – but I guess killing my family and friends does that to a person.

The light of recognition dawns in his eyes, but it is too late. Sebastian quickly sheds his coat and top hat, moving in a blindingly fast blur to stand behind Matthew and bind his arms behind his back.

"I know who you are," he says in a soft breath, struggling against Sebastian's iron arms. "Augustine. Valentina Augustine."

I smile, feeling all the nerves drift from my body. My heartbeat is steady and true – I'm more than ready for this.

"Matthew England," I brush my hair back, stepping closer. Sebastian forces Matthew into one of his chairs and steps away, returning to my side. His eyes are glowing ultraviolet and pupils reduced to those alarming feline slits as he stares at me, waiting for my orders.

"I don't believe you've had the pleasure of meeting my colleague," I gesture to Sebastian with a soft voice. "I would like to introduce you to Sebastian."

"Demon," Matthew spits, sounding afraid. "I know what you are."

Sebastian bows to him, but it is not the same respectful one he uses with me. It's one of complete eye contact and bared teeth in a feral, silent animalistic snarl.

"I'm protected from you," he says suddenly, dropping his eyes. "We all are. She told us about you and you can't touch us."

I'm too preoccupied by his words to answer, but thankfully Sebastian steps in for me.

"I think you misinterpret the reason for our visit," he says smoothly. "I am not here to kill you – my Lady is."

Matthew laughs abruptly, and the offense in the gesture has my blood boiling. "Is this a joke?"

I step forward briskly and slap him across the face, leaving a bright red welt and a flabbergasted expression on Matthew's face.

"Don't you dare presume to insult me," I seethe, clenching my fists. "I'm not helpless anymore."

Matthew grimaces, leaning sideways to spit blood onto the floor. He takes a minute to poke at the inside of his cheek with his tongue, cupping his face and glaring up at me.

"That's right," he says quietly. "You've made a deal with the Devil. You sold your soul for this unholy trash, didn't you? That shows how weak you really are."

I make to slap Matthew again, but he snatches my wrist painfully tight and stops me. In one quick, black blur, Sebastian vanishes from my sight and a shark _crack_ fills the air. My wrist is released and Matthew howls in pain, clutching his broken arm to his body.

"Sebastian!" I exclaim angrily. "I don't need your help!"

Sebastian's hand moves over his breast and is silent, acknowledging my words.

"But that's where you're wrong, Valentina. You do need him. You couldn't even pull free from my grip until he snapped my arm in two."

I grit my teeth and fold my arms.

"Tie him up."

Matthew glares defiantly at me while Sebastian rummages around in the trunk, withdrawing a length of cord and a dagger. The dagger goes in my hand and Sebastian quickly binds Matthew's wrists to the chair, tying his ankles together.

I lift the dagger eyelevel, admiring the clean, silver blade and the way the light from his fireplace reflects off it. I set the dagger on the table and hop up on it, pulling the blade back into my lap and using a piece of silk from my skirt to polish the already gleaming silver, seeing the way Matthew's eyes follow the movement. Sebastian stands just behind Matthew, looming silently and imposing.

"What will you do?" Matthew asks me, blinking slowly.

"I'm going to ask you a couple of questions," I tell him. "And you'll do your damndest to answer them correctly. Otherwise I'll carve you up like you did my Father and Siobhan."

Matthew shudders and smiles all in once. "Stupid woman. I had no part in Siobhan's death. But your Father… I won't lie that it was my blade that decorated him."

I snarl, leaping from the table and slashing Matthew's chest. He winces and stays silent, glancing down at the blood that blooms from the wound. Sebastian's eyes burn as he watches me with an unreadable expression dominating his face.

"That's the _wrong_ answer, you piece of shit."

Matthew laughs weakly, shaking his head. "Bitch," he smiles, looking back up. "Is that all you can do?"

I don't answer, making a show of wiping the blade clean on my skirt instead. His blood will go nicely with red silk.

"I want you to tell me the names of your accomplices."

Matthew chuckles in place of his answer. "Brothers," he insists. "Blood brothers. She used her magic to bond us together. You really think a little knife will get me to open up?"

I move forward and kneel in front of him, pasting an innocent smile on my face. "No, but I know this 'little knife' will open _you _up. Do you know what a Chelsea Grin is, Matthew?"

When he doesn't answer, I lift my blade. "You take a _knife_, just like this one, and cut from here to here." I drag the tip of the dagger from the corners of his mouth to his cheek, relishing in the way his expression falters. "And then you beat the life out of your victim until his facial wounds rip open from screaming too much."

Matthew swallows hard – his act of bravado is beginning to melt.

"Would you like one, Matthew? Of course, I've never given anyone a Chelsea Grin before… but I'm sure you won't mind if I try a couple of times to get it right, will you?"

Matthew opens his mouth to argue, so I press the blade to his throat to silence him.

"I didn't think so! And I'm really no good at physical violence, so maybe I'll cut you instead. Doesn't that sound fun, Sebastian?"

"A fine suggestion, my Lady."

"You'll have to do a whole hell of a lot more than that to get anything out of me, Augustine."

I let my eyes burn into his before I stand, turning on my heel to look away. "You know, you're probably right. But we have _all_ night, don't we Sebastian?"

The demon makes a sound of agreement and says nothing.

When I turn back to face Matthew, he's glancing down at his chest wound again.

"Does that hurt?"

"No," he spits, narrowing his eyes. "I've known worse pain than your little bitch blade." I grin, on the verge of laughter when I rejoin him at his chair.

"You're probably right," I say again, grasping a handful of his shirt and stabbing the blade through, ripping it open to bare his chest. I'm disappointed my initial attack hasn't hurt him that badly; I can see from the cut. "We'll just have to do something about that, then."

I grit my teeth and press my blade into the first wound, dragging it down his chest to his belly button with an emotionless smile. Matthew groans in pain and lets his head fall back, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. This time I see I've caused him significant harm – the blade's gone at least two inches into his stomach. Blood flows quickly from the cut, pooling at the waist of his pants and soaking them completely through.

"Maybe I'll ask you a different question," I muse, wiping the blade on his leg. "We can come back to that one a little later. I want to know _why_. Why my family? Why leave me alive?"

Matthew smiles, repositioning his head back to normal. "That's more than one question, Augustine."

I growl, slashing my blade across his face.

"Do not be too hasty, Mistress," Sebastian interjects calmly. "Do not let your anger wear out too soon. Make it last. Savor the feeling and use it to make him pay."

"How interesting," Matthew mumbles. "The demon coaching the woman."

Sebastian glances down with roiling eyes, but Matthew can't see the intensity of it. He instead shuts his eyes and groans, smiling suddenly.

"Cut me again. Make it a good one and I'll answer one of your questions." Ferocity blazes in Matthew's eyes and sweat beads on his forehead, but his gaze does not waver. I wonder how serious he is, and decide that if he's bluffing I can always carve him like a pumpkin instead. I'll do that anyway, but it would be nice to get some answers before he dies by my hand.

"Which one will you answer?"

Matthew chuckles softly, shaking his head. "How many questions you got?"

"Only three, and I think it'd be in your best interest to answer them all."

"There's five of us, remember? Three questions for five murderers doesn't add up. You'd better think of two more – and fast. I'm only willing to answer one, but if you can get three answers out of me then you're a better woman than I give you credit for."

Excitement blooms in my stomach, but I don't let it get in the way of my concentration.

I kneel before Matthew and study his bleeding torso, an idea springing to mind. I carefully imitate his insignia in the very same place he put it on my Father, hoping he'll appreciate the irony of it. Matthew yells out in pain but has a wicked grin on his face when he glances down.

"That's a good one – so I'll give you a name. Pay close attention, Augustine, and remember what I say. I won't tell you twice, and I can see you're the type of woman who needs things explained a few times. Ernest Driar. Got that?"

"Ernest Driar," I repeat. "Is he one of your accomplices?"

Matthew smiles sweetly. "One answer, remember?"

Fury washes over me, tinting my vision red. I quickly add five more cuts over the long, deep one and watch as Matthew's face pales. His strength is waning quickly, so I hurry to ask him more.

"My Lady," Sebastian says, making me jump. I'd almost forgotten he was near me. I look up and see the violet in his eyes giving way to white pentagrams, making my demonic marks begin to burn slightly. "He will not give us the answers you seek. Perhaps it is time to finish it?"

Matthew's ragged breathing is a testament to Sebastian's words, and I look to him as I stand.

"I suppose so. Listen, Matthew – because you were so complacent, I'll go easy on you. Instead of carving you like a turkey, I've got a new plan. I'm just going to let Sebastian eat your soul."

The color drains from Matthew's face and leaves him white as a sheet.

"No," he mumbles, "no! Please, my soul must be saved! My soul is not for you, demon!"

I silence Matthew quickly, sliding my blade across his throat and letting the blood run down his chest like a torrential waterfall.

"All yours, Sebastian. Make it quick – I'd like to go home." I wipe my blade clean on Matthew's pant leg and step back, returning the dagger to the trunk where it came. I hear a feral growl and turn my head to see Sebastian's eyes focused on Matthew's body, his mouth opening to reveal that mysterious white glow spill faintly out. His pointed teeth make me shudder and I turn away, unwilling to let this side of Sebastian alter my opinion of him.

A few moments pass before Sebastian touches the small of my back. I jump and turn; relieved to see he's back to his old self. The violet in his eyes has faded to red and a polite smile graces his mouth.

"Is my Lady ready to retire home for the evening?"

I look around him to where Matthew's body slumps in the chair, still tied and glistening with blood. He doesn't look any different to me.

"Did you take his soul?" I ask, taking a few steps toward the corpse. "He looks the same state of dead as before."

"The eyes, Mistress. Look at them and you will see." I get closer and lift his head with my pointer finger, raising it up so I can see. All color in his eyes has vanished, leaving only white orbs in the sockets. It's very creepy and I shudder, turning my head away.

"Is this how I'll look when you eat my soul?"

Sebastian does not answer right away, but when he does his voice sounds strange. "Yes, my Lady." I don't let this knowledge bother me, and before I return to Sebastian's side to don my clothing, I dip my pinkie finger in Matthew's blood, drawing the number 1 on his forehead.

"Now they'll know I'm coming for them."

"Come, Mistress. It is late and you must be tired." I rejoin Sebastian and allow him to drape my stole back over my shoulders, reaching for my hat and fitting it tightly to my head for the journey back home. Sebastian dons his jacket and top hat quickly, opening the door for me and stepping into the cold rain at my side. He picks me up with one arm effortlessly and leaps onto Matthew's roof, jumping to the closest tree to start the trek back.

Once home, Sebastian draws me a bath and helps me step into it, discreetly looking the opposite way. He is about to leave when I stop him.

"Wait, Sebastian. Stay with me," I ask, sinking down into the hot water. It feels like heaven on my aching muscles; especially my arms. I learned tonight that it is surprisingly difficult to cut flesh – the amount of pressure required had been a learning moment for me.

"As my Lady wishes." He takes his place near the door and stands with his hands behind his back and I roll my eyes and sigh exasperatedly. I'm feeling peculiar all of a sudden, and the only thing that interests me is to have Sebastian close. The carnage and blood I'd caused and shed tonight is not draining me as initially thought; rather, it makes me desire Sebastian's attention and affection. I want him to kiss me again – he has not in some time now, and just that thought is enough to make me grumpy.

"If I may, Mistress? I am very surprised and pleased with you and your success tonight." Sebastian's eyes grab hold of mine and I notice the hungry expression in them. His words ignite warmth in me and I can't help but smile in response. I beckon him closer and invite him to sit on the edge of the tub, which he does with a neutral expression. I rest my arm near him and lean my head on it, freeing myself from his pointed gaze and studying his pantleg instead. I'm close enough to see the fibers in the fabric.

"Thank you," I say. "That means a lot. I'm happy with myself, too," I laugh, hearing Sebastian make a noise of amusement in his throat and he shifts his weight, turning toward me. I lift my head and distract myself by swirling the water around, feeling a sudden heat in my cheeks.

"I have no doubt in my mind that you will be able to see through your task to the end, and achieve your goals."

I slowly meet his eyes, feeling my heart pick up suddenly.

"Kiss me, Sebastian."

Sebastian's eyes darken, and he hesitates. "Are you sure, Mistress?"

"Don't make me order you to do it."

Sebastian grins and bends, pressing his hand to my neck. I stretch and grasp his face, feeling the way his lips meet mine carefully slow. I don't want that, though, so I tangle my fingers in his hair and increase the passion in my kiss. Sebastian is more than willing to comply – especially when his tongue traces my lower lip and invades my mouth with all-too eager permission on my end. His tongue is slick and warm and it makes my heart beat frantically in my chest as I pull myself out of the tub.

Sebastian does not seem to mind that I'm soaking wet when he pulls my body close to his. His gloved hands skim over my wet skin, and that bothers me, so I pull back and reach for his hands, pulling his gloves off for him. I press his hand to my cheek and turn my head to kiss his palm, opening my eyes only halfway to look at his face.

I can't even begin to describe the look in his eyes, but his gaze is like molten lava. His eyes drift down to my marks and then, finally, lower. I can't keep myself from purposefully moving his hands to cup my breasts, leaning into him to reach his mouth again. Sebastian's hands are skilled, knowing exactly what to do in order for me to push myself even closer to him.

"Take me to the bed," I ask him breathlessly, pausing for the first time since taking his gloves off. My whole body is aching, trembling for him. I need Sebastian to take control and bring me to the place I haven't dared to go with anyone in months.

Sebastian hesitates, taking my face gently and angling my head so he can meet my eyes.

"My Lady… Do you know what you are requesting of me?" Sebastian's eyes almost seem like they're tormented – he's looking past my eyes and into my soul, the way only a demon can.

He isn't refusing me, so I don't let myself get embarrassed.

"I know exactly what I'm asking. I wouldn't do it otherwise." He searches my eyes, opening his mouth as if to speak and saying nothing. I offer him a wan smile. "You won't hurt me. It's not my first go at this."

I don't know what has Sebastian hesitating so. This is the only time I've ever initiated the kissing – doesn't that say something in itself?

"Yes, Mistress." Sebastian moves quickly, lifting me into his arms. I twine mine around his neck, dipping my head to continue kissing him. He doesn't need his eyes to see, that much becomes obvious very quickly when I'm laid gently on the bed. Sebastian straightens up and removes his tailcoat while I wait with anticipation. Just when it seems I'll go insane, Sebastian smiles darkly and bends over me, moving himself to form a sort of cage with his arms and legs around my body.

I reach up and grasp his face, bringing it down to kiss him. His hair falls into my face and I can't resist; I brush my fingers through it, amazed it's so silky. When I can't stand the fact that he's still clothed and I'm not, I move my hands over his chest to find the buttons to his shirt. It's pitch black in the room, thanks to the late hour. The moon only barely offers the faintest amount of light, as shielded by the rainclouds as it is, but my eyes have begun to slowly adjust.

Sebastian can see perfectly, of that I have no doubt. He doesn't need his hands to help him paint a mental picture like I do, but he uses them anyway for the sake of the moment. The demon pulls us up and sets me down on his lap, tired of our previous position. I curl my legs around his waist, now nearly completely dry, and work my way down his chest to get his shirt off.

Sebastian's laughter is muted and suggestive. "In a rush are we, Mistress?"

I don't listen to him; I work my hands underneath his shirt and slide it off his shoulders, letting it fall behind him. I've paused, now, leaning slightly back to admire his physique. Countless times he has seen my unclothed form and this is the first for me. I want to run my hands over his chest and feel every inch of his pale skin under my palms, so I do it. My eyes follow my hands, but when I look up I see unbridled desire fueling the ultraviolet in his eyes.

I always have been perceptive.


	8. aftermath, remembering

**A/N:** Shorter chapter, get over it. =)

**Warning:** None. Booooring.

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><p><em>SEBASTIAN<em>

_Last night I lost control._

_It should have never happened – but I could not resist her. She did not order me to do what I did, but I could see her playing around with the idea. I did not want it to have to come to that._

_But my carnal desires have been sated – yet I get the feeling that one taste of her will not be enough. The way her body molds to mine is incomparable to any other ever before. It is not enough to have her lips on mine or her naked body pressed tightly against my own… I want more. I need more. I need to feel her delicate hands working through my hair, and I must have more of those breathy moans she is so good at._

_I will not last without them, I fear._

_It was difficult for me to keep from hurting her and I could not rein myself in completely. She did not falter, and I have to applaud her for that. I could only clutch her to me when she arched her back and pressed her naked body to mine, running her hands restlessly over my back and murmuring my name. Oh, the way she moans my name…_

_Alternately, it is possible the strength she showed me hours before is what drive my hunger so wild. Never before could I have ever pictured such fragile beauty transform into the wicked temptress she displayed earlier in the night. It was all I could do to keep myself contained while watching her drag the blade over that man's skin – I could barely stand still. Her animalistic transformation is evidence that she is strong enough to finish this, and nothing attracts me more to a soul than strength._

_But, also to a woman._

_If a demon were capable of love, I am certain she would be a prime candidate for one._

_In an unrelated matter, I am beginning to worry about the truth behind the murderers who seemed to be so attached to her family. Something tells me there is more than Valentina even suspects lurking behind the initial façade, and I wonder how she will manage it. Of course, I am here for her to use, but she has made it quite clear that I am not to intervene unless asked during the killings._

_I do not mind it, for it lets her display what attracted me to her soul in the first place – growing ferocity, increasing malice and a learnt taste for destruction. I will be her teacher, and in return she will offer herself to me. I have seen it happen. I will not be able to wait for that moment. Already I cannot wait, but I will have to practice patience._

_She does not consider me her butler, but it is the role I will assume. I will make sure her every need is catered to, and that way her soul will be willing and ready by the time the end draws near. Although I will probably have to ensure a little hesitation on her end, for there is nothing more delicious than fear in the throes of soul-stealing._

_Especially if it is Valentina._

* * *

><p>"Ernest Driar," I say to myself, jotting his name down on one of the pages in the file given to me by Arnold. Sebastian moves around behind me, fixing a pot of honey tea and golden brown buttered toast for breakfast. It's been an early morning, made especially difficult from getting no sleep at all on my end last night. Spending the night with Sebastian was exactly what I needed – carnal affections from one who seemed all too eager.<p>

The distraction was needed – but now I feel it's time to get back to the task at hand.

I can't let myself get too involved with Sebastian, and getting attached is completely out of the question. It seems easy to let my feelings run wild, but I won't. And besides – Sebastian seems wrapped up in his thoughts today. He hasn't so much as looked at me any differently since last night, and I find I sort of appreciate it. I know that if I were to catch his wandering eye in my direction it would make moving on that much harder.

I must admit I feel different now. Knowing that I've single-handedly ended a man's life is sparking new thoughts – I see things in a new light now. I feel powerful and deadly, and it's thanks to Sebastian that I feel this way. Thanks to Sebastian, I feel a little better now. Matthew England is dead, and Ernest Driar is next on the list.

"I want to spend as much time as possible searching for Ernest Driar," I say aloud. Sebastian appears out of the corner of my eye and sets my cup of honey tea down on the table in front of me, as well as a plate of twin pieces of toast.

"What of Arnold's files? Do they not tell you anything?"

I shake my head. "He has profiles of five potential suspects, but there's no way for me to possibly use them. There are no names and the appearance descriptions are scant at best." Sebastian takes a seat across from me and looks over several pages.

"And the files from the library?"

"Victim lists," I say. "Once again, they lack relevant suspect names."

"Then my next suggestion would be to read between the lines, Mistress. Look for witness reports, if there are any. Certainly there is something in these files that can be of some use."

I sigh heavily, reaching for a piece of toast. I'm starting to get fed up with all the paper. I want _action_, not shuffling through reports and files for the next week. The toast is perfect, but I guess I shouldn't expect anything less from Sebastian, and it goes wonderfully with the honey tea.

Sebastian busies himself with reading files, so I try my best and imitate him. I'm losing interest fast – I want to _act_ more than anything. I drum my fingers against the tabletop in agitation, hearing Sebastian's low chuckle.

"My Lady, if this task irritates you, please take a break. I will scour these files and pick out every piece of information needed."

I don't hesitate; I push away from the table and pick up my tea, carrying it into the sitting room with me. Sebastian's laughter follows me until the door separates us and I'm left in complete peace. It's the perfect time to ruminate over Matthew England, and everything that happened last night.

I had no inclination that I could be strong enough to go through with that task. I feel no remorse for his life lost, nor do I feel guilt. I suppose that should be a red flag, but I've lost any ability to care. The only thing I feel regret about is not getting more information out of him before I let Sebastian eat his soul, but I reason there are four more men I can _persuade_ to tell me what I want to know.

Perhaps I'm growing evil, or maybe I've developed a taste for shedding blood – it's all I can think about now. I want to be more creative with Ernest's death this time; I'm thinking maybe I will try giving him a Chelsea Grin and stabbing him until his face rips apart from screaming. Asking Sebastian for suggestions sounds like a good idea, but I don't want to bother him just yet. Not when he's busy doing the things I can't stand to do anymore.

And then I think of afterwards – the way Sebastian's hands felt on my skin. I'm able to recognize the fact that I should have never gone there… I should have stopped him from kissing me those first few initial times. He _is_ a demon, after all, and I know enough about his kind to realize that he is unable to care for anything more than consuming souls and causing destruction. A good part of me is completely fine with this, and then there is a smaller part that wishes for more.

I won't dwell on that, though – my ultimate end is inevitable, and I can't even dare to hope for anything more.

But for the time being, I see no harm in enjoying his taste and letting him do the same.

After some time, Sebastian appears in the doorway. It startles me awake – when did I fall asleep? – and he wears a placid smile on his face.

"It is nearly time for dinner, Mistress. Will you take your dinner here in the sitting room or retire to your bedroom?"

"In here," I tell him.

"Very good, my Lady."

Sebastian turns swiftly and disappears into the kitchen, reappearing moments later with a tray the holds my dinner, setting it on the small table before me.

"Aren't you going to eat?" I ask him, sitting straight up in preparation to eat.

"Demons do not eat, Mistress."

"You eat souls," I point out, laying my napkin in my lap.

A faintly amused smile plays at the corners of Sebastian's mouth. "While that is true, it is not considered 'eating' in the typical sense. We do not require a fork and knife."

I hesitate, fork and knife in hand, and shoot Sebastian an un-amused look. His answering smile and laughter brings a smirk to my lips, but I shake it off and set about finishing dinner. He has prepared a guinea hen, drizzled with a mango glaze and caramelized sugar, accented with green and red peppers.

"How are you able to prepare a meal like this if you don't taste it?"

Sebastian smiles, one that very briefly shows the whites of his teeth.

"What kind of demon would I be if I couldn't prepare a meal to my Lady's liking?" He places his hand over his breast and bows slightly, still smirking when he straightens back up. I can't help but roll my eyes, returning my attention to dinner.

"Will the Mistress be requiring me again this evening?"

My head shoots up and I forget I've got a mouthful of food, staring at the demon. The devilish look in his eye tells me he means exactly what I think he does, and the playful grin fighting for control makes my face redden.

I close my mouth quickly, swallowing and taking a sip of the red wine accompanying dinner. "That should have never happened," I mumble. It's a pointless effort to keep him from hearing – Sebastian always hears, no matter how quietly I speak.

"And why is it you say that, Mistress?"

I lift my head and meet his eyes unwaveringly. "Because you are a demon," I tell him evenly. "You aren't meant for me." Sebastian's eyes flash ultraviolet and he comes close to me, lowering himself down on one knee in a bow.

"Yes, my Lady. But do not forget that your wish is my command. I can be whoever and whatever you need me to be, and do as you wish. I will never refuse you."

I swallow hard, uncertain of how to answer. Sebastian doesn't seem to require one, thankfully; he merely rises back up and refills my crystal glass with wine. His response has me thinking that I haven't completely shut myself off from him and sends my thoughts spinning in a whirlwind of what could be. I dare not dwell too long on last night, fearing Sebastian will be able to accurately guess at my preoccupation, so I instead finish my dinner and allow him to clean it up.

"Have you been able to glean anything of importance from Arnold's files yet?" I've followed Sebastian into the kitchen, uninterested in being alone. The papers are all stacked into neat piles and it's difficult to tell either one of us has been obsessively poring through them these past few days.

Sebastian as his back to me while he tidies the kitchen.

"No, my Lady. But I have been able to pair Matthew England with a few of the descriptions given to us, although that information is certainly useless now."

"Can't you do the same with the other men?"

"Rest assured I have tried, Mistress. But like you mentioned before, doing so would be completely wasteful if we do not have a name or any sort of descriptions to match with the other men."

I glance down at the files, dragging my fingers along the top page with a sigh.

"Well then, Sebastian, here is a new order. While I sleep tonight, I want you to do whatever it takes to locate Ernest Driar. I would like to move in on him tomorrow evening."

Sebastian turns and looks at me. "Would not my Lady feel more comfortable with me looking over her this evening instead?"

I lift my eyebrow, perplexed. "Why would I want that?"

Sebastian smiles. "I merely thought that you would enjoy exercising caution since the arrival of the letter. Does my Lady not wish for protection?"

I scoff, shaking my head. "Not hardly. I can take care of myself, Sebastian." But even as I say it, I wonder how much is the truth. In all honesty, it's something I had given no thought to whatsoever – do I need his protection now? Perhaps Sebastian senses my uncertainty, for his voice is almost gentle when he speaks.

"Do you remember what I told you at the masquerade? Your soul knows me, and even more so now than before. If you are in danger, all you need do is say my name. I will return to your side with no hesitation."

I don't like the thought of needing him so much, but I nod anyway. I don't doubt I'll be safe tonight, but who is to say I won't need him tomorrow night? Sebastian speaking of the masquerade reminds me of a few things, and so I sit at the table and fold my hands in front of me.

"Tell me about Ash. I remember there are things you would not share with me before, and I'd like to know them now."

Sebastian stiffens noticeably, and it has me wondering. He turns and joins me at the table, silently graceful, setting his hands in his lap. His black hair falls partially into his red eyes and his face is serious as he takes a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Ash is not the breed he seems. Certainly he is now a demon, but that has not always been so. I eliminated him fifty years ago, under orders from an old master, and back at that time he was an angel. It seems he has returned, reborn into a creature like myself. My guess is that his actions prevented him from entering Heaven, and he was reborn as this creature of darkness."

"Ash is an angel?" I echo in disbelief.

"Was, Mistress." Sebastian corrects me gently, glancing up at the ceiling. "He is now a demon."

"How did he get banned from Heaven?"

Sebastian returns his eyes to mine. "It is a very long and tedious story, my Lady. I think it best if you let me worry about him."

"So you're saying I should be worried?"

Sebastian shakes his head. "No, Mistress. I merely mean to say Ash has turned up several times upon his reincarnation, and all of them center on _my_ souls. It is no wonder he made his appearance as I was to form a contract with you. It is almost like he intends to steal my souls." There's no hiding the irritation in Sebastian's voice in his last sentence and it makes me wonder what the reason behind it is.

So, I ask. "Do you know why Ash is trying to sabotage you?"

"I would not say sabotage, my Lady. Although there is no denying he has reason enough to despise me, and that alone could very well be why he tries to steal my souls every time. It seems like his reason to take you was stronger, though, and I have wracked my brain trying to find out why. I could sense a change in him from the last time I encountered him, and it revolves around you, Mistress."

I lean back in my chair, surprised. "Me? What could he possibly want with me?"

Sebastian lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "I do not know, Mistress. But rest assured I will not let him touch you."

I glance away, disliking this turn in the conversation. I don't want to think my life is in danger from another demon – I'm already going to meet my end at the hands of a demon, and I don't want another clamoring after my soul. One is good enough for me.

"You are in no danger, my Lady. Ash cannot touch your soul so long as you are bound to me." Perceptive as always, Sebastian does not fail to pick up on my inner hesitation. "Do you prefer I still go out this evening?"

"My orders have not changed, Sebastian. You will have Ernest's location by the morning, understand?"

Sebastian's pupils dilate and violet washes over red as he stands to bow.

"Yes, my Lady."

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><p><strong>AN:** I'm glad we're learning more about Ash. I kind of feel like he's been too absent, especially because he's an integral part of the story and plays a very crucial role. Review! =P


	9. mistress, malevolent

**A/N:** This chapter was my absolute favorite to write, and I'm sure you'll figure out why soon enough. =P

**Warning:** Gore and sex. The two best things in the world. All tastefully done, if you can imagine such a thing! =D

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><p>Sebastian is home when I wake the next morning, and his face is aglow with pride.<p>

"I take it your mission was a success?" I sit up in bed, stretching my arms out at my sides. It's all too easy to read his facial expression this morning, and when Sebastian smiles in answer I know I'm right.

"You will be pleased to know that Ernest Driar resides in east Chelsea, my Lady, in a manor placed directly in the heart of the town."

"A manor, hm? I guess that will mean servants to tangle with, too."

"Most likely, my Lady."

"Then I'll leave _them_ to you, Sebastian. But we should really reformulate the plan. I can't wander to his door, asking for shelter and offer payment in return if he's already wealthy,"

"That may not be true, Mistress. Oftentimes the wealthy have soft spots for other members of nobility who encounter momentary times of trouble," he tells me. I move to the edge of the bed and Sebastian comes to me, intent on beginning the morning routine. "I do not think it will be a problem to show up unannounced on his doorstep late at night."

"And if we do it late enough, Driar will be in bed. You can eliminate the servants quickly, without alerting Driar."

"A fine plan, Mistress, made all the more believable with the newly fallen snow on the ground."

"It snowed?" I cover my naked body with the towel Sebastian has set out for my bath this morning and drift to the window, excitedly wiping away condensation fogging the glass and peering out. Sure enough, a fine layer of powder dusts the ground white and weighs down the trees. It has to be several inches, at least, and the sight makes me want to dress quickly and go outside to play in it.

"Do you know what a snowman is, Sebastian?"

"A snowman, Mistress?"

The confusion in his voice gives me my answer, and I turn with a smile. "You make three big balls of snow and pile them on top of the other," I explain. "Then you make his eyes and mouth with coal, use a carrot for a nose, and give him stick arms. I like to dress him up with a hat and a scarf, too,"

Sebastian looks like all of this is beneath him, and it makes me laugh. "We're building one later, Sebastian, so stop with the sour expression."

"Yes, Mistress."

Sebastian quickly helps me bathe and dresses me, but I don't see the need to rush. I want to talk to him about this evening – I want to know how to make Driar's pain last. It's what he deserves.

And when I'm done, I'll let Sebastian eat his soul.

The afternoon finds Sebastian and I outside, up to our knees in fresh snow. I've wanted to build a snowman all day, but the snow's too high to make it a good one. Instead I let myself fall back and disappear into the snow, hearing Sebastian crunch nearby and knowing he's stopped to wait for me to get up.

"Can I ask you a question, Sebastian?" I narrow my eyes; the white sky is almost too bright for me to handle.

"Certainly, my Lady."

"I want to make Driar's suffering last," I begin, sitting up. "How should I?"

Sebastian smiles and the sound of his chuckle reaches my ears. "Does my Lady mean to say she lacks imagination?"

I swivel my head to glare at him, seeing his amused grin. "I'm asking you for advice, since I'm sure you've killed more people than I have,"

"While it is true that I know how to kill, I have never purposefully tortured a man before, Mistress." Sebastian ventures closer to me and settles down in the snow in front of me, looking a bit put out to be there.

"My advice to you, Mistress, is exactly what I said to you at Matthew's home. Take your time – do not let your anger fade too quickly. Harness it, channel it through your limbs and use it to invent new ways to inflict pain upon Driar."

I scratch my head, furrowing my eyebrows together. "That really doesn't help me, Sebastian," I tell him. "It was so hard for me to hold back with Matthew. I doubt I'll be able to with Driar."

"I will help you, then, Mistress. Rest assured I am at your side, and I will guide you. It is my job to make sure you exact revenge in the most fulfilling way you can."

I smile, seeing the red in his eyes look so much brighter with the purity of the snow around the both of us.

"You'll help me draw out everything with Driar? You'll tell me what to do to make him pay?"

Sebastian smiles serenely, and there is no disguising the malice buried in the gesture. "If that is what you wish of me, Mistress, it is what I will do."

I pile a bunch of snow in my lap and grin down at it, feeling my heart pick up with anticipation. My blood pumps through my veins with hot intensity and my fingers itch to curl around the hilt of a dagger. I see Sebastian studying me curiously, no doubt trying to decipher the look in my eyes. I glance up and offer him a small smile despite the new anxiety flowing through my body.

I've never felt this way before – and it's easy to say I never would have predicted killing could do this to me.

When it gets too cold for me to handle, Sebastian starts a fire in the hearth inside the sitting room and I huddle up next to it, warming my hands and toes. The hot flames feel like heaven on my frozen digits and I sigh with pleasure, hearing Sebastian's chuckle from behind me. I turn my head, narrowing my eyes,

"What, demons don't get cold?"

Sebastian is laying our snow-wet clothes out on the hardwood floor in front of the fireplace when he answers. "No, my Lady. As a demon, I do not feel temperature. Nor do I need to eat, sleep or bathe, although the latter is certainly enjoyed."

"You don't have to bathe? What if you get dirty?"

"Then it is only natural I bathe, Mistress."

I look away and back into the flames, thinking over his answer. I would never willingly trade my humanity to become a demon and shackle myself to needing souls, but there do seem to be just a few perks to being one.

"So I want to run over the details of this evening with you, Sebastian," I get up and move to one of the chairs, pulling my legs up to my body. I'm wearing the white bloomers that go under my dress and my corset, having just shed my dress to let it dry.

"Go on, Mistress," Sebastian adds another log to the fire and turns to face me, leaning against the wall close to the fireplace.

"I think I'll wear the same dress I wore to kill Matthew," I muse, tracing a finger over my kneecap and following the movement with my eyes. "It'll make a statement… even though Driar will be dead by the night's end and won't get to appreciate it."

Sebastian's eyes switch rapidly between red and ultraviolet, each hue fighting for control. He closes his eyes slowly and reopens them and everything has returned to normal. I'm not sure the reason behind such a rapid change in his eyes, but I have enough experience to know that it involves his emotions and me.

"I think that is a fine idea, Mistress. I daresay Driar will not be able to tell if you are an angel or devil come to deliver his end."

I smirk, glancing back down to my knees. "Thanks, Sebastian. But I want him to know I'm not someone to be taken for granted. He needs to know I'm there to kill him."

"Oh, he will, my Lady. You will see to that."

"I think it'd be a good idea to let one of his servants escape from you, to warn Driar," I propose. "Then he can the two of us follow the servant into Driar's room, and I'll take it from there."

"Please excuse me, Mistress, but do you think you can handle a fully-grown man? Obviously I have no doubts on your ability to _kill_ him, but restraining him will be another matter completely."

"Then I leave that to you, Sebastian. You restrain him and make sure the servant does not survive the night, and then the fun can begin." I lace my fingers together, silently ruminating over things to come.

"If I may, Mistress? I am extremely impressed with your change in person," Sebastian says quietly, dipping his head.

"You only say that because I'm sure all this killing is making my soul even better for the picking," I retort, shaking my head and trying to mask my smirk.

"I cannot lie to you, my Lady; you are right. But that does not alter the way you have changed, nor does it alter my words."

I don't look at him, feeling ridiculous. Sometimes I think Sebastian tells me what I want to hear, but at the same time I appreciate what he has to say.

"Are you ready, Mistress? We will leave shortly for Chelsea. It may take us some time to reach Driar's home due to the storm." I turn around to look out the window. The snow has picked up and now resembles a blizzard – I'm sure if I were to go outside I couldn't see more than a few feet in front of my face.

"Are you sure we can make it there at all?"

"What kind of demon would I be if I could not get my Mistress to the house of the man she is to kill?"

A little while later, when I am tightly bundled in warm jackets to keep the biting cold at bay, Sebastian takes me up in one arm and we begin the journey. He's carrying the trunk of supplies in his other hand, and it still amazes me that he is able to carry my weight without the use of his two arms. He walks us through the woods surrounding my home, and once we've cleared most of the trees he leaps onto the nearest rooftop with surprising ease and agility, reminding me of a large, predatory cat.

I bury my face into his chest, realizing now how cold it really is. We're moving quickly and the wind paired with the temperature makes for a terribly frigid combination, biting at my unprotected face with a vengeance. Luckily I've got gloves, and my mother's fur coat fits me like a glove now that I'm older and have grown a few inches since her death. I can't remember off-hand what sort of animal kindly donated his fur to make it, but the sleek black color and silky feel reminds me of a panther, perhaps, or possibly even a black bear.

Ice crystals form over the two of us – despite moving at an inhuman speed, the weather is simply too cold to avoid such annoyances. I wonder if I'll ever regain the feeling in my nose again, and I wonder just why it is we can't take a carriage to Chelsea instead of this ghastly winter trek. But Sebastian is warm, thankfully, and I let my eyes close to try and concentrate on using his body heat to defrost my icy face.

It takes longer than I would have liked, but soon enough Sebastian slows and sets me down outside a set of impressive gates. Driar's manor is a palatial estate, looking more like the Parliament building than anything else. The snow here piled high along the sidewalks is dirty and crusty, telling me someone has recently come along to plow it off the roads to make them easier to travel by.

"Are you cold, my Lady?" Sebastian bends to my eye level and brushes shards of ice off my shoulders, looking impossibly apologetic.

"Freezing," I say between chattering teeth. Snow falls gently from the sky, dusting Sebastian's inky black hair and the shoulders of his long waistcoat. It doesn't bother him; the demon who can't feel cold.

"Then let us hurry inside." Sebastian swiftly opens the gate to Driar's manor and urges me along the snowy path and up to his front steps, guiding me with his hand on my back. It's very dark, and although the moon peers out from behind a cover of clouds and illuminates the snow, it's still hard for me to see much.

I don't feel nervous for what we're about to do – I merely feel antsy.

Sebastian knocks firmly on the door, needing to do so several times before anyone answers. A woman in maid uniform answers, looking a little bothered at the interruption. But the second she sees us standing in the cold, layered with frozen snow, she gasps and covers her mouth.

"Oh, you poor dears! What has you out in the cold so late at night?" Her voice is soft and extremely kind, laden with worry. My teeth are chattering too hard for me to make a coherent sentence, so luckily Sebastian steps in.

"My Mistress and I seem to have gotten a bit lost," Sebastian lies smoothly, placing his hand on my shoulder. "We are not from around these parts, I'm afraid. Might you have any place for us to stay tonight? I fear for my Lady's health out in this cold."

The maid peers at me worriedly. I'm sure my face looks ghastly red with cold and I can feel my nose running disgustingly, so I make a show of blinking weakly and offering her a tiny smile.

"Of course, of course! My Master is asleep, so you will have to excuse him. Do come in, and we will get you out of these cold clothes and in front of a warm fire." The maid ushers us in, closing the door tightly behind her. Driar's manor is as beautiful on the inside as it is the out, even with the scant amount of candelabra on the wall lit at the late hour.

"Please follow me into the parlor," the maid smiles over her shoulder, striding smoothly away and beckoning us to follow. "I have a fire already lit and waiting."

I can feel the difference in temperature already, and it is marvelous. We follow the maid into a beautiful parlor with a giant fireplace, churning out impossible heat. I gasp with delight and move quickly to stand before the flames, trying to shed my coat with numb fingers.

Sebastian's hands gently push mine away, replacing my fingers with his own.

"You _are_ cold," he muses, holding my right hand for a mere moment to gauge my body temperature.

"I told you," I roll my eyes, wiggling my shoulders to help myself out of the thick fur jacket quicker. Luckily my dress underneath isn't wet in the slightest, but my skin is frigid. I've almost forgotten about my demonic marks until I see the maid's eyes scour over them curiously. She politely drops her gaze when I catch her, bowing her head in a silent apology.

"Would you care for some tea, Madam? It will warm you up in no time," the maid offers, standing a polite distance away while Sebastian removes his cold clothing as well.

"That sounds lovely," I nod my head, beginning to feel strangely. I will feel bad if I have to kill this maid – she's shown me so much kindness in such a little time, and I have a hard time believing she works for such a monster.

"Might you show me to the kitchen?" Sebastian interjects, smooth as silk. "My Lady enjoys her tea a certain way, and I would be loathe to give her the wrong sort."

I'm confused for a moment until I catch Sebastian's eye. This is all part of the plan, I realize. Perhaps he's merely intending to get a layout of Driar's manor, or perhaps he wants to encounter as many servants as he can in order to kill them all quickly. I don't know his intentions, but I'm _sure_ it isn't to make my tea a specific way.

"Certainly, sir. Please, follow me." The maid curtsies to me and bustles off, trusting Sebastian to follow. When I am alone in Driar's parlor I take the time to poke around. I come across a large oil portrait of the man I assume to be Driar, hanging on the wall and enclosed in an ornate gilt frame. There is nothing special about his features, nothing that would make him stand out in a crowd, and I feel my stomach churn. Anger is quickly bubbling up inside me and I clench my fists, grinding my teeth.

"My Master, Ernest Driar," the maid's voice reaches my ears, startling me. I turn quickly and see she is standing in the doorway, smiling kindly. "He is a good man."

I don't exactly know what to say in response, so I choose silence. I move back to one of the chairs that faces the fireplace and sit back down in it, hearing the maid move around behind me. She appears at my side with a blanket, offering it wordlessly. I nod and she goes about draping it just so over my lap, trying hard to keep her eyes from my marks. I can tell.

"What is your name?" I ask, tucking my arms under the blanket.

"Julia, ma'am. May I ask yours as well?"

I smile, feeling there can be no harm in telling her who I am. "Valentina Augustine," I say, seeing a light of recognition spark in her eyes.

"Oh, my Master knows of your family," she says. "He keeps newspaper clippings of the Augustine's in his private study. I am terribly sorry about your incredible loss, madam."

I sit in an almost stunned silence, unable to comprehend what I've just learned. Julia works as a maid for Driar and knows nothing of his sins?

"That's very kind," I manage to choke out, shooting my glance into the flames. Julia stands and smoothes her skirt, looking almost contrite before she speaks again.

"If I may be so bold, ma'am? May I ask of the origins of those marks?"

I glance down, wondering if this is going to become a pattern. First Matthew and now Driar's maid – will Driar himself ask about them, too?

"I was in a happy accident," I tell her, using the same words I'd offered to Matthew. "The scars healed darker than normal."

Julia's eyes zero in on the encircled pentagram, certainly doubting my story. I see the question in her eyes - what accident creates a perfect pentagram scar?

"I am very sorry to hear that, ma'am. It seems there is no end to your suffering." Julia curtsies and my voice lumps in my throat. I turn my head quickly away.

Sebastian appears, bringing with him a silver tray holding a teapot, saucer and teacup.

"My Lady, your tea." I take the offered teacup and saucer, seeing how Sebastian bends close to me.

"The task is finished, my Lady. She and Driar are the only left surviving in the manor." Sebastian's voice is barely above a whisper, but I hear him clearly enough. A dark smile spreads across my face – one Julia can't see.

Suddenly a man bursts through the parlor doors, dressed in a nightshirt and looking extremely terrified. A line of blood runs down his shirt but it isn't his own. The man sees Sebastian and yells in fright, turning on his heels and fleeing instantly.

"Arne…?" Julia takes a few steps forward, concerned, and Sebastian chuckles.

"Oh, dear," he says, standing straight up. "It seems I've forgotten one." Sebastian does not need to wait for my orders – his eyes flash ultraviolet and he instantly takes off after the man, leaving Julia and I alone in the parlor.

The maid's eyes meet mine, confused and frightened. "Madam… your butler!"

"Yes," I say, taking a final sip of tea and standing. "It would appear he intends to kill everyone in the manor." My voice is utterly calm, but Julia's is not when she replies.

"Then we must get you and my Master to safety!" She grabs my wrist and drags me through the parlor, up a winding set of stairs and bursts into a bedroom, dark except for the dying fire in the hearth. There is someone sleeping in the bed against the far wall, and I automatically know it is Driar. Julia drops my wrist and rushes to the sleeping man's side, gently coaxing him to wake.

"Master! You must wake, please, Master! There is an intruder in the manor who wishes to harm us!"

Driar sits up instantly, rubbing his eyes. His brown hair is mussed from sleep and the instant his eyes zero in on me it seems I'm all he can look at.

Driar knows who I am – that much is obvious.

"Driar," I greet him flatly. "You're looking well."

The doors behind me slam open and Sebastian enters the room, striding to my side with something close to arrogance.

"Please excuse my mistake, Mistress." Sebastian covers his breast with his hand and dips his head formally.

"Madam, you must get away from him! He has killed everyone but us!" Julia's voice is frantic and desperate.

I smile placidly; deciding tonight has already been dramatic enough to allow my next move.

"He is only following orders." I stand on my tip toes and kiss Sebastian's cheek, noticing the way his eyes begin to glow violet. Julia is at a loss for words, it seems, until I notice the way Sebastian's eyes are locked on hers. The maid quietly stands and moves herself to the corner of the room, kneeling down and closing her eyes.

"You're controlling her?" I ask, looking up at the demon.

"I merely intended to silence her, my Lady. I did not want her in your way."

"So you've come, then?" Driar's voice interrupts us, pulling my attention to him. "First Matthew and now me. Is this how it is to be? You'll move down the line until you reach the end?"

"If you haven't anything useful to say, then I suggest you quit talking." The man sitting in bed is only a few years older than the image depicted in the portrait, but there is no denying it is the same man. "But, you would be right. You can thank Matthew for dropping your name so graciously. Although, he didn't tell me as much as I would have hoped," I push my hair back, off my marks and see how Driar eyes them.

"You've sold yourself, Augustine?" The older man gets out of bed and eyes his immobile maid, shrugging one shoulder and coming around the bed to where his desk sits in front of a large window, taking a seat in the chair.

"The state of my soul is none of your business."

Driar chuckles, pulling a tin of cigars from the desk drawer and lighting one, puffing gradually until the tip glows red. "I suppose not, but it's nice to know she was right."

"She?" I echo. This is the second time a woman has been mentioned in connection to both Driar and England, and it's starting to annoy me that I have gotten no further details. "Who do you speak of?"

Driar smiles, tapping ash off the end of his cigar. "I don't know her name," he tells me. "Years of working for her and none of us know her name. I could tell you what she looks like, but I won't."

"My Lady," Sebastian murmurs. I look to him and see he has brought the trunk with, and that brings a smile to my face.

"Are you interested in a game, Driar? It'll be fun, I promise."

Driar meets my eyes and takes another puff from his cigar. "I'd really like to finish this cigar, and maybe have a glass of whiskey first. Do you think your butler could pour me a glass? I'd ask the maid, but she's indisposed at the moment." Driar's eyes flick to Julia and he shakes his head.

Sebastian moves quickly to the cabinet, pours an appropriate amount of whiskey into a tumbler and takes it back to Driar, setting it on the desk before him. He takes a stance behind Driar, clasping his hands behind his back and waiting.

"I'm not a patient woman, Driar," I inform him, wandering to the desk.

"Oh, but you must be!" Driar exclaims, tossing back his entire tumbler of whiskey in one go. "You've waited this long to come after us, so clearly you have an immense amount of patience. I, personally, would have never been able to sit by this long. Tell me, Augustine – did you enjoy our letter?"

Anger gets the best of me. I snatch Driar's tumbler up from the desk and clock him in the head with it, feeling only remotely better. My throw wasn't hard enough to knock him out, but a nice purple bruise blooms just above his left eye.

"Ouch," he covers his eye, rubbing it. "You have a lot more anger than I anticipated. And here I thought your menacing demon would do all the work for you,"

"Sebastian is not the one with a grudge against you," I tell him, pulling the trunk up onto the desk and rummaging around inside it for rope. I toss the bundle to Sebastian and nod my head, watching him grab Driar's arms and tie them behind his back with a mixture of rough grace. I see Driar's unfinished cigar fall into his lap and know the cherry must be burning him – but it only makes me smile.

"Maybe you'll tell me more than Matthew did," I muse, picking out my dagger from the trunk. "I could always shoot you and raid your private study, but I think this is more fun."

"How do you know of my study?"

I jerk my thumb in Julia's direction. "You can thank her. She let it slip that you've been collecting newspaper clippings on my family for years, you sick pervert. Does it get you off knowing that you and your friends destroyed my life?"

Driar smiles, tilting his head back just so. "I don't think you'll get much out of me, then."

"And why's that?"

"Everything you need is in my study, Augustine. But could you do me a favor before you go snooping around in there?"

I laugh, coming around the side of his desk and sitting on top of it, reaching into his lap and grabbing the still-burning cigar. I turn it between two fingers, eyeing it thoughtfully.

"Why should I ever do anything for you?"

Driar sighs, glancing down at the large hole in his nightshirt, caused by the cigar. Underneath, his skin has burnt only slightly and that does not satisfy me.

"Can you make this quick? I'd like to die as quickly as possible. I've lived every day with myself and my past and it doesn't make life easy. I know what I've done to you and I regret it all."

While he speaks, I've picked up the matchbox and ignited another match, holding the tip of the cigar into the flame. I blow out the match and meet his eyes curiously.

"You regret it? That's funny," My voice is soft – but not from emotion. In a quick motion I lean forward, pressing the burning end of the cigar against Driar's throat. Driar squeezes his eyes shut and moans in pain, attempting to thrash his body away from the burn until Sebastian's hands curl around his shoulders and pin him to the back of the chair.

"When did you start to regret it?" I ask, twisting the cigar. "When you set my grandparent's manor on fire or when you kept Lynnay's body for years?"

"All of those things," Driar chokes out. His voice is garbled; it would seem I've burned him directly where his vocal chords would be. Already the cigar has charred a perfect circle in his throat. Clear liquid drains from the wound and if I pull the cigar away I can see into his neck – sinuous muscles stretch by the opening and blue blood vessels twine around them, begging to be cut.

I let the dead cigar drop to the floor and pick up the dagger instead, pressing the tip inside Driar's burn wound.

"I don't think I'll need to ask you the same questions as I tried with Matthew, but here's one, just for fun: why?"

Driar's eyelids flutter and I wonder if he's close to losing consciousness. "Oh, come on! I've barely touched you! Don't tell me you're about to pass out," I smack Driar's face several times in an attempt to rouse him, frowning with displeasure. The stench of burning flesh fills the room and makes me wrinkle my nose. Maybe a burn wound like his is more serious than I think?

Driar groans and his head falls to the side, but his eyes open.

"You want to know why?" He whispers, breathing shallowly. "I can't tell you why. None of us know why. Whenever she needs us, she calls on us and we are her puppets. There is no refusing her – no matter how you try. She taints your soul and makes you _want_ to,"

At the mention of souls I lift my head and meet Sebastian's eyes. It's clear he doesn't understand much about what Driar's saying any more than I do. The pentagrams in his eyes glow faintly among the ultraviolet and the sight sends a shiver down my spine. A thought has suddenly come to mind – the last time I killed, Sebastian and I gave into my desire.

Will _that_ happen again tonight?

I smile at the thought of it, turning my attention back to Driar. The man has his eyes closed and blood is now leaking from his wound. The torn muscles inside his neck from my blade look grotesque, but the sight holds underlying measures of satisfaction. It tells me I'm causing him as much physical pain as he gave to me emotionally.

It's a fair exchange.

"Well, Driar, I think you're about on your last legs, here." I pull the blade from his neck wound and wipe it on his shirt, leaning back to cross my legs. "Is everything I want in your study? I don't want to kill you only to discover you know things I can't find,"

Driar opens his eyes and meets mine. I read the pain laced in the irises and it makes me smile with pleasure. "Everything you need… is there. Names… Addresses, all of it." He closes his eyes again and his chest heaves. "I have no reason to lie now."

I glance up at Sebastian quickly, so enticed by the idea of searching his study that I don't want to finish Driar anymore.

"Perhaps we should check the study, my Lady." Sebastian suggest, removing his hands from Driar's shoulders. "He will not be going anywhere soon."

I jump from the desk top and toss my dagger down behind me, making my way out of the room and hearing Sebastian follow.

"This place is huge," I say, looking both directions down the hall. "How are we supposed to know which room is the study?"

"In most cases with nobility and manors of this size, the study is the room directly across the hall from the bedroom, Mistress." Sebastian gestures to a door in front of us.

I shrug noncommittally. "Might as well try it," I say, stepping forward and reaching for the handle. The door does not budge – locked.

Sebastian sees the problem and gently moves me back; placing his hand around the doorknob and ripping the door clean off the hinges. I gape as he leans the door against the wall and bows, extending his arm.

"After you, my Lady."

I step inside the room, letting my eyes adjust to the sudden darkness. The curtains of this room are drawn against the moonlight, so Sebastian quickly goes around and opens them with a flourish. There is one large desk in the center of the room, and sitting atop it is an oil lamp – which surprises me.

"Driar must be crazy wealthy," I say aloud, picking the oil lamp up. "I don't know anyone who can afford one of these, and he's got a few," Scattered about the room are a few more lamps, all identical to the one in my hand. I find a matchbox on the desk and lit the first lamp, relishing in just how much brighter it is than candlelight.

Driar's study is a room of books, from floor to ceiling. I have no idea where to begin, so I go around to the other side of his desk and sit in his chair, eyeing all the drawers. They're all locked, so I figure it's a good place to start. Instead of trying to search for keys, I have Sebastian pull the drawers open for me, catching the smug look on his face as he does so. It's clear he's proud of himself for being able to do such a feat, and it makes me roll my eyes.

Inside the largest drawer is a collection of personal annals, so I eagerly set them on top of the desk and open the first. It's a collection of newspaper clippings, just like Julia told me he kept. They're all from the first few murders; the ones of my parents. I don't want to read them, really, so I skim over the bodies of the articles and catch my name several times, as well as Lynnay and Siobhan's printed in. The first of the annals is all newspaper and I've quickly lost interest in the repetition of that, so I set it aside and move on to the next one.

I open the cover and am nearly sick with shock - this book holds all the photos I could ever hope to come across. Crime scene photos, taken by the murderers themselves, stare up at me in black and white.

"Sebastian," I get the demon's attention and beckon him over from the bookshelf he's looking over, gesturing to the images taped to the book's pages. "They really do have photographs."

I feel my stomach curling, but I will myself to refrain from being sick. These images are poorly taken, blurry photos depicting close ups of the wounds. My mother's blank eyes burn themselves into the back of my skull, seeming to ask the silent question _"why?" _My father's eyes, rolled to the back of his head and colorless are somehow even more haunting – if this is all the book turns out to be, then I don't want to look anymore.

I close that book and push it aside, seeing Sebastian pick it up out of the corner of my eye.

The third book is the jackpot – names, addresses and everything I need to find the other killers.

"Look at this," I say, running my finger under a sentence scrawled into the book. It is part of a list containing five names – two of which being Matthew England and Ernest Driar.

"I think we've found exactly what we are looking for, my Lady." Sebastian leans over me, tucking the photograph annals under his arm and reading the list.

"Carter Dennings, Ralph Canterbury, William Brigs… These are all five names we need, Sebastian!" A smile stretches quickly across my face, reflected in Sebastian's eyes. He's so very close to me I can see his thick lashes almost individually, and see the way his eyes crinkle ever so faintly when he smiles back.

"Yes, Mistress, but I could not help but notice there is no woman's name listed there," he points out. "England and Driar both mentioned a nameless woman, did they not?"

I glance back down at the list only to see he's right – all the names listed are clearly male. A sigh escapes me and I feel Sebastian's hand on my back.

"Do not let it discourage you, my Lady. This is more than we could have ever hoped for; getting these names may be a blessing."

Under the names of the men are listed addresses, and that sends a jolt of electricity through me. This is what I have been waiting for – the thrill of the hunt rushes through my veins. I close the annals quickly and stand, piling them together and bringing them with me back into Driar's bedroom. The man is still tied to his chair, coughing up blood and weakly moaning in pain.

"Well Driar, it seems we've found everything we need!" I singsong, getting closer to the suffering victim. He doesn't bother to lift his head but opens his eyes instead, eyeing me.

"Goodie…" he trails off, coughing another clot of blood onto the floor.

"I think it's time to put you out of your misery, don't you, Sebastian?" I set the annals on the floor and pick up my dagger, waving it in the air.

"Very good, my Lady."

I return to my perch on the desk, side-stepping the puddle of blood on the floor and cross my legs, balancing the knife on my knee. Sebastian comes to stand near me, locking his hands behind his back and surveying Driar with a stony expression. I stretch out my leg and touch the tip of my toe under his chin, careful to avoid the blood, and lift his head so he's looking at me.

I don't miss the way Sebastian's eyes watch me do it.

"Fetch me the pistol, would you, Sebastian?"

The demon leaves my sight for a mere second, returning an instant later with the pistol in his white-gloved hand. It's already loaded; I made sure of that before we left for Matthew's a few days ago. Driar blinks slowly and deliberately, and the heaving of his chest seems to have calmed.

I aim the pistol right between his eyes and smile. "You've been such a help, Driar. Rest assured your soul will go to a better place – because Sebastian is going to eat it."

Fear blooms in Driar's eyes and he sends a look toward Sebastian in the same instant I pull the trigger.

Driar's head slumps forward and I can't help but laugh, getting down from my perch and tucking the gun and dagger inside the trunk.

"All yours, Sebastian."

Sebastian's eyes flash ultraviolet and he moves toward Driar – but I look away. I don't fancy seeing Sebastian devour the man's soul, especially knowing I'll meet the same fate sooner than later.

"What do we do about her?" I'm referring to Julia, who still remains in her kneeling position in the corner of the room.

"I will fetch our clothes and then take care of her, my Lady." Sebastian has finished with Driar, and when I risk a look at the man I see the color in his eyes has vanished – evidence of his soulless state. I organize the interior of the trunk, taking care to make sure everything is where it should be. While I work on that, Sebastian disappears from the room and returns a moment later with our outerwear, draping it on Driar's bed and turning towards Julia. I don't want to watch this either – Julia had shown me a great deal of kindness, and I know that I'd never be able to end her life.

A sharp crack lets me know Sebastian has finished the job, and when he picks up my thick fur jacket to help me into I know it's time to venture back out into the cold. I make a face and slide my arms into the sleeves of the coat. Sebastian chuckles.

"I will make haste to hurry home, my Lady. The cold must be unbearable for you."

I laugh humorlessly. "It must be nice knowing you don't feel the freezing cold," I take my hat and cram it on my head. My mood has already soured, but I remember that we've got the names of the other murderers.

"When we get home, Mistress, I will draw you a hot bath, and ensure the cold is gone from your body."

I wonder if Sebastian hears the innuendo in his sentence – because I surely do.

Before we leave, I go back to Driar's body. Like with Matthew, I use his blood to draw the number '2' on Driar's forehead; directly above his gunshot wound.

"Do I see a pattern, Mistress?" The humor in Sebastian's voice makes me purse my lips to hide my smile.

"I just want to make sure the ones who find the bodies know the same person has finally come after them. That's all."

"Come, my Lady. Let me get you home before too long."

* * *

><p>I sink down into the hot bath, sighing in delight. Just like last time my body aches with the strain of used muscles, so I knead my knuckles against the underside of my arm. However, I have not asked Sebastian to stay in the bathroom with me.<p>

The possibility of what could happen in just a little while has my heart racing with nerves.

It's difficult to say what entices me more – the fact that I'm clearly playing with fire, the attention from Sebastian or the feeling of being wanted, if only for the night. For too long I've been solitary, only finding comfort in plotting my revenge on those who wronged me. And now that my time for revenge has finally arrived, I can seek comfort in other places while _still_ enjoying my revenge.

Perhaps the fact that Sebastian is so inhumanely strong and feared that draws me in.

I stand and drain the tub, wrapping a towel around my body. If I know Sebastian, he'll be waiting on the other side of the door, prepared to ready me for bed. But I've decided that if I have any say in the matter, I won't be going to bed alone. Even if Sebastian is merely lying at my side will satisfy me. I've grown attached to his presence, and knowing he is with me until the end is vaguely comforting.

But only vaguely.

I leave the bathroom to find my suspicions correct; Sebastian is waiting patiently by my bed with his hands behind his back.

"Is my Lady warm once more?" Sebastian approaches me and begins the task of drying me off.

"Yes, thank you. Warm enough." I glance away as Sebastian tugs my nightdress over my head, letting it fall to my ankles as usual.

My heart catches in my throat as his hands brush along my arms, trailing up to my shoulders. Sebastian brushes my still-wet hair back and his finger traces the curve of my neck and over my collarbones. His eyes are unreadable; glowing faint violet inside sienna-red. I'm not sure what his intentions are on this evening, but if he continues to touch my skin so then I don't rightly care.

"Sebastian…" I drift off, unable to slow my heart. Sebastian's hands move up my jaw, tilting my head back and running his thumbs lightly over my cheeks.

"The change in you is astounding…" Sebastian murmurs. I raise my hands and rest them on his chest, falling under the spell cast from his ultraviolet eyes. "I would not believe it had I not been there myself."

I know that had I wanted to move, I could not. Sebastian's gaze has me immobile, and when he dips his head to ghost his lips along my jaw I can barely keep from making a sound. I run my hands down his chest, intending to unbutton his tailcoat as swiftly as I can. Sebastian's dark laughter against my throat makes my skin tingle and I all but ignore the sharp bite at my collarbone. Sebastian's lips are smeared with blood when he pulls back and meets my eyes – but the sight doesn't alarm me anymore. It's almost sensual now, seeing that slash of crimson on his mouth has me pushing myself closer to him.

"My Lady, tell me what you want."

"I want you to kiss me." Sebastian does not hesitate; he frames my face in his hands and his lips crush down onto mine.

I gasp wildly, threading my arms around the demon's neck and pressing my body to his. Sebastian's teeth score my lower lip as I feel his hands travel down my body, squeezing around the back of my thighs and lifting me into the air. I lock my ankles behind his back and arch my back into him, feeling the way he turns gracefully and lowers me on the bed.

Sebastian uses his teeth to remove his gloves, keeping his gaze on mine the entire time. His black nails are strikingly dark against his pale skin, and those eyes of his are like twin rubies set in his beautiful face.

"What else, Mistress? Your every desire is mine to fulfill."

I reach up and run my hands through Sebastian's hair, brushing it temporarily out of his face. His red eyes hold mine, waiting for a response, so I smile.

"I want everything from the other night," I tell him, slowly, deliberately. "And I want it harder."

I see the expression on Sebastian's face – surprise. I pull his face down to mine and before I kiss him, I hesitate to speak.

"That's an order."

Sebastian's laughter brings a smile to my face and when I pull him down completely to kiss him, I don't hold back.

And he doesn't either; that much is evident when he roughly pins my hands above my head and kisses my throat, running his tongue over the minutes old bite wound. I arch my back up into him, feeling the way he gathers my wrists in one hand to use the other to run down the side of my body. Sebastian releases my hands completely, trailing his palms lightly down my arms, still raised above me.

He pauses at my marks, sitting up long enough to look at them. When Sebastian's fingers curl around the neck of my nightdress and rip it in half, I grin with amusement and laugh.

"Impatient," I smile, seeing his eyes flash. Sebastian pauses to unbutton his white shirt, pulling it away from his body and letting it fall to the ground. "I do hope you'll pick that up later?"

Sebastian's eyes wash over with ultraviolet and he licks his lips, letting his eyes wander over my body.

"Sebastian, _now_." I curl my fingers around the waistband of his pants, impatiently working the button to get it undone. He pulls me into a sitting position and removes the remains of my nightdress, sliding his hands up my sides and over the swell of my breasts. I dig my fingers into his bare shoulders and lean into him, touching my forehead to his. Sebastian angles his head to kiss my lips, swirling his tongue around mine, hot and demanding. I run my fingers through his hair, stroking his scalp and feeling him respond to my touch.

Sebastian's hand strokes my thigh, inching further and further up and creating a coil of heated anticipation. It twists in my stomach and dances lower and soon I can handle no more of the teasing; I take his hand and press it to my core, moaning against his mouth when I feel just where his fingers are pressing. I lift my hips eagerly, reaching underneath to work on undoing his pants. Sebastian helps and it takes less than the blink of an eye, but to me it feels like ages.

"My Lady," he breathes against my ear, holding me easily above his lap with one arm. "It will be different this time," he tells me, almost in a warning. "You asked for harder, and that is what I will give you."

I yank his hair, fixing him with a silent expression of impatience. It's difficult to ignore the violet in his eyes, especially the way the pentagrams in them seem to sizzle.

Sebastian smiles and I finally feel him – pressing against the very most sensitive part of my body. I bite my lip and throw my head back, hearing the way he chuckles darkly. His skin on mine is electric; the feeling of his hands skimming over every inch of my body is almost hypnotic in its slow pace. Sebastian's mouth finds new places to kiss – down my neck, across every inch of my marks and finally lower to my breasts. His hips work a steady rhythm as they push firmly into mine and I tangle my fingers in his hair and tug unintentionally, eliciting a growl from the demon.

I lift my hips and push against him, intending to deepen his every thrust. Sebastian's hands lower to support my lower half, fingernails digging into my skin. There will probably be bruising there tomorrow, but I could care less. The way my hands now grip his shoulders I'm sure he'll be marked tomorrow, too. I pull his head back to mine to kiss him, moaning against his mouth and making sure there is no space between our bodies. Sebastian's breathing is just as heavy as mine but he isn't as vocal – a growl here and there partnered with a breathless groan tells me we're doing something right.

I bite down on my lip hard when Sebastian grinds his hips roughly into mine, bringing forth a welter of blood to my lower lip. The demon dips his head and his tongue swipes out to clean it away, licking his lips afterward and lowering his head to return his mouth to my collarbone bite mark. I feel his tongue return to the injury, moving over the bite mark to stimulate it to bleed a little more and the feeling makes me gasp, fisting my hands against his back. Sebastian releases my hips and drags his hands up my stomach and over my breasts to trap my face, kissing directly under my chin and along my jaw. The intensity of his kisses leave me wondering if I'll have marks _there_ as well, but I let that slide away.

Sebastian swiftly pulls me up and settles me in his lap, still fully encased inside me. I slide my arms around his neck and he hugs my body tightly to his, leaving the speed and depth up to me. I begin to move my body, arranging my legs so I can use them for leverage. Sebastian groans against my neck, digging his fingers into my back. I know I won't be able to take much more of this before I reach my climax.

All of this feels unlike anything I've ever come across; to be this close to Sebastian. It's different than killing – different than sleeping with faceless men in an attempt to find comfort.

This is more than that, and I get the feeling it's stemming from our demonic contract.

During one of the masquerade nights, Sebastian explained that if I wanted him to be my lover, he would please me until I could handle no more. There must be something about his inhuman nature that makes him so skilled at everything – it's only been a few moments and already I'm close to as much as I can take. I feel my muscles seize deliciously and I cry out breathlessly, clutching Sebastian as close as he can be and feeling a warmth steal over my entire body and caress my muscles.

Sebastian's fingers dig into my back but he does not make the sounds I do. His release comes in the form of a feral growl and rough hands on my back, lips at my neck.

The demon reverts quickly to his usual state – he sets my spent body gently down on the bed, covering me with my blankets and offering me a smile loaded with demonic mirth.

"Sleep well, my Lady. For tomorrow evening we resume our attack on the men responsible for driving you into the arms of a demon."

I'm to weary to respond, but a smile of agreement slides across my face. Before I give into sleep, Sebastian's red eyes fill my vision and transfer into my dreams.


	10. Ash, chanced

**A/N:** Shorter chapter this time, because it's mostly a filler. I got too caught up in ideas for the _next _chapter that I even started writing it before I'd finished this one. =P But rest assured, this chappie is important, too. XP

**Warnings:** None that I can remember. =P

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><p>I wonder what it is about the idea of revenge that has me so completely absorbed.<p>

It's the next morning and I'm outside, sitting in the snow. I've bundled myself up as warmly as I can stand and it still isn't enough, but the temperature is the last thing on my mind. I've created five roughly human shaped piles of snow, using pebbles for eyes and bits of cold grass for the mouths. Already I've crushed two of the crude dolls with a grim smile, signifying Driar and England's deaths. It doesn't feel as satisfying as the real thing, but it will suffice.

"My Lady, I have prepared tea and a warm bowl of minestrone for you," Sebastian's voice makes me jump. I turn my body and see him just inches away, standing with his hand over his breast as usual. "Would you care to come inside? I fear the snow will pick up very soon."

I stand and brush the snow dusting the back of my legs, following Sebastian wordlessly inside. The fire in the sitting room is strong and impossibly warm, and while Sebastian helps me out of my heavy, cold clothes I stare into the flames in thought. I wonder if Sebastian wants me to say something to him – this marks the second time I've been almost wordless about the night before. I _want_ to mention it, but I have no idea how to bring it up in conversation.

I doubt that he does – why would a demon be interested in a human woman's body?

Especially when her soul must be so much more appealing.

Sebastian ladles me a bowl of soup and pours my cup of tea, standing a casual distance behind me in silence. The quiet between us is almost awkward and I want to try and start a conversation, but I'm at a loss for words. The crackling flames fill the silence, but it isn't enough. Thankfully, Sebastian speaks first.

"My Lady?"

I turn my upper body to look at him. "Hm?"

"If I may be so bold, but there seems to be something on your mind. Mistress is not usually so absorbed."

I can't help but smile – Sebastian can't read minds, can he?

"You're right, but if it's all the same I would prefer not to talk about it."

Unruffled, Sebastian bows his head slightly and smiles. "Understood, my Lady. But rest assured that if anything on your mind bothers you I will be here to ease it."

I turn back around so he can't see the way my eyebrows rise in surprise. I don't quite understand the reason behind his words so I choose not to question it. It'll only pile up yet another question into my already crowded mind.

When I finish with lunch, Sebastian clears it all away without a single word. It makes me wonder if things truly _have_ become weird or strained between us since last night; and I want to know if I should say something at all. I shake my head to clear my thoughts, frustrated now.

Sebastian returns to the sitting room, meeting my eyes.

"Today I have arranged for you a day out, to treat yourself to any of the luxuries you've been denied these past years. Everything is taken care of, Mistress, and all that is required of you is to show up."

"Luxuries? How do you mean?" I lean back in my chair and see the smile in Sebastian's eyes.

"Shopping, my Lady. Today is when you can buy whatever it is you decide you want." He folds his arms behind his back and waits for my response.

"I think that sounds like a good time," I say to him, smiling. The idea of getting some new dresses tailored to fit me is very appealing. I wouldn't say no to a new piece of jewelry, either… "When can we go?"

Sebastian chuckles. "Whenever you are ready, my Lady."

I jump to my feet, looking down quickly. "I'm ready now," I say, grabbing my mother's fur coat from near the fireplace. It's completely dry now, and as I stick my arms through the sleeves I feel the warmth it's absorbed.

It's probably just my imagination, but I also smell my mother's perfume.

Sebastian readies the single-horse carriage while I wait impatiently, too excited to be annoyed with the slow pace. It isn't _really_ slow, but it feels like it. Soon enough Sebastian helps me into the carriage and we set off, but it's slow going thanks to the snow. The horse is shoeless for the winter to keep him from slipping on the ice, but he still stumbles a few times. It's only thanks to Sebastian shoveling the snow off the path that we can even _make_ this trip. Although, it looks like there's been no progress made whatsoever – the snow has continued to fall from the sky almost as if it has a personal mission to blanket freshly-cleaned streets.

It takes nearly two hours to reach the first streets of London, and by then I'm very cold, even in the carriage. Sebastian reins the horse in along the sidewalk and I'm surprised to see we aren't the only ones out and about today – the weather isn't as serious here as it is at home, so quite a few people stroll around with packages heavy in their arms. It's nearly Christmastime, after all, but I stopped caring for holidays years ago.

The streets and sidewalks are essentially clean, but I still take Sebastian's offered arm to ensure I don't slip. I don't want to wind up on the ground and covered in dirty, slushy snow. Being out today makes me feel like a true member of nobility, especially when elegantly dressed woman on the arms of their husbands offer me small, polite smiles when Sebastian and I walk by. The absurd thought that some of the women think Sebastian is _my_ husband crosses my mind, due to the fact that he isn't exactly dressed like the butler he likes to portray.

There is a dress shop close to the Thames that my mother always used to go to, and that's where I steer Sebastian first. The dressmaker is a beautiful woman from France named Madam Rouge, and when I walk in she recognizes me in an instant.

"Ah, _ma petit valentine!_" Madam Rouge exclaims, rushing forward to grasp my hands and kiss my cheeks warmly. She is all smiles and dressed in fine clothing as usual, and when she glances to Sebastian I see a gleam in her eye.

"Valentina, have you wed?" Her French accent is still strong, despite years of living in England. Automatically I lift my hand to cover my mouth and stifle a laugh, but Sebastian doesn't bother. His quiet laughter attracts Madam Rouge's attention and the woman's eyes sparkle, looking him up and down.

"Sebastian is not my husband," I manage to say. It is the idea of having the demon for a husband that has my laughter so difficult to contain, as well as Madam Rouge's reaction to my words.

"Not wed? Then he is a free man…" The French woman fans herself, batting her eyelashes coyly.

"My Lady Valentina is mine, though, rest assured."

Sebastian's answer discourages Madam Rouge and sets my heart pattering – but I've got to tell myself his words only apply to our contract and his possession of my soul.

"Tch," she waves her hand with a smile. "Well, _cher_, what can I do for you today? A dress, perhaps?"

I pull my coin purse from my pocket and wave it, grinning. "Three, actually," I say, seeing Madam Rouge's eyes light up. "I've reason to celebrate as of late, and that requires a little spending."

"_Quelle merveille_! I will see to it that you do not leave here disappointed!"

One of the greatest things about Madam Rouge is her ability to focus completely on dressmaking – and not to inquire of my "reason to celebrate". I'm sure if she found out she would have Scotland Yard on me as quick as possible.

The dressmaker ushers me through the parlor and into the back, where a raised platform, wall of surrounding mirrors and plenty of light awaits me. Sebastian follows, settling down on the divan Madam Rouge points to. The Frenchwoman wastes no time, pulling my jacket off my shoulders and hanging it up, undressing me swiftly until I'm standing on the platform in nothing more than my corset and bloomers.

"The man must go," Madam Rouge tells me, shooing her hands at Sebastian with a slight frown. Sebastian glances questioningly at me and I shrug my shoulders.

"Do as she says, Sebastian," I say, watching him through the mirror. The demon stands and leaves the room, most likely to settle himself in the parlor.

Madam Rouge sets to work once more, releasing me from my corset and finishing the job of undressing me until I'm completely naked, standing in front of the mirrors. I'm not embarrassed to be naked in front of her; this is all part of her job. She needs to have as little in the way of her measuring tape, and when she pulls that out and begins to wind it around certain parts of my body, scribbling down the results on a pad of paper.

"Valentina, you have grown into a beautiful woman! The last time I saw you, you were still a small girl," Madam Rouge curls the measuring tape around her neck and cocks her hip, placing her hand on it and looking at me.

"Thank you," I say with a smile. I don't want to insult Madam Rouge by rolling my eyes, although it's exactly what I want to do. Even if the compliment is apparent, it's still getting a little old to hear the same thing from her as from Detective Chaucer. I wind my arms around my body, feeling a slight chill, and Madam Rouge helps me dress. I ask Sebastian to return, for the parts he needs to be absent for are over and the fun can really begin – choosing fabrics, colors and styles for my new dresses.

The demon's eyes are bright red here in the dressmaker's studio, and I almost think Madam Rouge will point them out with the way she's staring. But then I realize how the lighting makes his pale skin glow and darkens his already-black hair to a shade so inky it's like the night has settled in his strands, and it makes me grin.

Sebastian meets my eyes and his expression is wanly amused.

"Come, come, into the back. We will choose fabrics to use!" The Frenchwoman claps her hands and bustles off, trusting us to follow. Sebastian drifts mutely to my side with an expression that is a mixture of uncertainty and amusement and it makes me smirk.

"Will this errand be finished soon, my Lady? I'm not sure how many more longing looks I can receive."

I break into laughter – Madam Rouge must be making Sebastian feel quite uncomfortable if the demon is voicing himself so easily.

"You can make yourself comfortable back out in the parlor," I tell him, leading the way after Madam Rouge. "I doubt we'll be finished soon."

A pained look crosses the demon's pale face, but he stays quiet and remains at my side, intending to stick with me. I reason that it's merely because of the contract, yet knowing he must _want_ to stay with me to some degree is nice. Even if we are only at a dressmakers.

The back room is stacked with shelf upon shelf of long cylindrical wraps of fabric in every color imaginable. Despite the high-volume of stuff in the room, the dressmaker keeps herself very well organized. I see hand-written signs fastened to the walls above the shelves, indicating the different types of fabrics. There are foreign names I've never heard of before, as well as shades of specific colors I've never dreamed possible. It's all a little overwhelming, but Madam Rouge seems in her element.

Sebastian is mute at my side, but his wine-red eyes take in everything with a sort of horrified fascination.

"Tell me the fabrics you favor, _ma chérie_, and we will begin there,"

She sits herself at a table in the middle of the room, pushing papers and pens aside in what I think is an attempt to organize herself. I join her at the table and Sebastian takes a stance behind me, neatly clasping his hands behind his back.

"I do like chiffon," I tell her. "Silk, too, and velvet is fine in some instances." Being in the room of fabrics has my brain fuzzy – it's like a dream come true. I'm particularly drawn to the royal blue silks closest to us, and Madam Rouge sees my distraction. She grins and rises, pulling down the oversized spool and setting it on the table.

"I see you eyeing the Persian silk," she says to me, gesturing to the fabric. "Go on and feel it, see if you like it."

I let my fingers trail over the silk, worried the oils on my hand might stain the beautiful blue. But when I see how exquisitely soft it is, I can't help but lay my palm flat on it with a gentle gasp of delight. The dressmaker laughs at my reaction and her eyes crinkle.

"We will have to make you a dress with this!" Madam Rouge quickly pulls the spool off the table and ushers me to stand, gesturing to the whole room. "Come, walk with me. Tell me what catches your eye and I will pull it down for you to feel. But you must let me have a little freedom with the decisions! I will make you three dresses you can only dream of."

I grin with excitement, forgetting everything that's happened the past week and letting Madam Rouge lead me around. Several hours pass and I know all of this has to be boring Sebastian to tears, but the red-eyed demon does not make a sound. He follows us, even when we make countless trips around the room, moving in circles to ensure I've thoroughly seen every available fabric type and color the dressmaker has, even offering his opinion when asked.

At the end of our visit, I've decided on three starter colors – the cerulean blue Persian silk, a delicate mint-green taffeta and an impossibly blood-red crimson silk that is Sebastian's choice; of course. I wonder just what it is the color red offers to the demon. _'The color of passion'_ he'd said to me at the masquerade, upon commenting on my lip color. I'll admit the color is beginning to grow on me now. Before I'd used red as merely a means of attracting a man – something about the color screams passion to them. Is it the same way with him?

Red only reminds me of blood.

I give Madam Rouge full permission to design my dresses as she pleases. It's already been hours since we've arrived, and I'm eager to move on and I'm sure Sebastian appreciates the break from dresses in favor of the slushy sidewalks. The dressmaker tells me she will be finished in four days time – explaining she's planned to devote herself entirely to my dresses and mine alone. The temperature outside has dropped, but I'm not ready to return home quite yet. I need to take Sebastian's arm once more to keep from slipping – the cold in the air is freezing large portions of the sidewalk and making it difficult to walk. Several times my feet slide out from underneath me and pulls a shriek from my lungs, resulting in my clinging to Sebastian like a spider monkey – and that only makes the demon laugh.

It's after one particularly nasty fall, where I'd lost hold of Sebastian's arm, that I think maybe we ought to return home. A stranger in a long coat helps me to my feet, smiling at me with familiar lavender eyes and white peeking out from underneath the lapels of his jacket.

"Ash," I say his name in surprise. Everything Sebastian told me of him comes flashing to my mind, exceptionally quick when I sense Sebastian move closely to my side.

"Ah, Valentina and Sebastian. Good day to the both of you,"

My eyebrow lifts of its own accord. Where are these manners of his coming from? It's only then that I notice a petite woman standing next to him, dressed in impressive finery.

"Do you know these people, Ash?" Her voice is like the tinkling of bells. Ash sends her a glance that's difficult to interpret; something like tenderness and annoyance, if such an expression exists.

"Sebastian is an old accomplice of mine," he tells the woman. "This is his_ friend_, Valentina." The woman nods in acceptance and offers me a tiny smile, turning her head away with disinterest. "It's funny bumping into the two of you here," the lavender-eyed demon muses. "Especially when Valentina lives so far away from the city."

My blood runs cold at his words, and thankfully Sebastian steps in. "I find it just as funny that you can speak so confidently about the address of my Lady, Ash." There is no hiding the malice dripping from his tone, and it surprises me.

The blonde demon chuckles. "I meant no harm in my comment, Sebastian. I merely intended to say that London should be pleased such an exquisite soul has graced the city with her presence, especially taking the weather into account."

The petite woman at Ash's side snaps her head to me and studies me in a new light. I wonder if it's possible something in Ash's sentence has alerted her to Sebastian's nature, and therefore my reason for being at his side. It's impossible for the woman not to know Ash is a demon, and when she pulls a bandage-wrapped hand from her pocket to brush her blonde hair back I get the distinct feeling that it's where her mark is concealed.

Sebastian laughs politely, and I glance at his face. The red irises are flashing ultraviolet, matching Ash's. "I should think you have no need to wonder of Valentina, Ash. Not when you have your own mistress to tend to."

Ash gives his 'Mistress' a cursory glance, and returns his gaze to the other demon. The hostile banter going on between these two is beginning to tire me, so I shift my weight impatiently. I know Sebastian gets the hint. The red-eyed demon turns toward me and the harsh lines etched out on his face vanish.

"Please excuse me, my Lady. It must be cold – let us depart and find somewhere for you to warm up." Sebastian's hand flutters over his breast and it makes Ash snort with amusement. I raise my eyebrow and glance at Ash, who looks incredibly amused at the display.

"How delightful," the blonde demon grins. "Such tender care for your Lady."

"I do not presume to know the relationship you share with your mistress, but I know that if you were any type of consort you would ensure her comfort and health are at the forefront of your attention."

A sour look crosses Ash's face and it makes me grin – the insult in Sebastian's words is only barely concealed, and I think even his companion picks up on it. A look of confusion flicks onto her face and she tilts her head to look at Ash with a question in her eyes.

I take a step back and loop my arm through Sebastian's. "So nice to see you again, Ash. Too bad none of us could spend more time catching up." Sebastian and I turn, intending to walk away, but Ash deems the moment appropriate for another comment.

"Indeed, Valentina, but I wouldn't be surprised if this is the last you see of me. Until next time."

I stop in my tracks, hearing clearly the threat in his voice, but when I turn my head he and his companion have already put a good amount of distance between themselves and us.

Sebastian looks down to me. His eyes have returned to normal and I can read the confusion in them at my nonexistent pace.

"Things like that make me think I should be worried," I tell him. The demon shakes his head, glancing over his shoulder.

"Let us wait to speak of this until we are home, Mistress. A demon's hearing is second to none."

I frown, turning promptly forward. Sebastian chuckles at my reaction and asks me if there are any restaurants that catch my eye, but I just want to get home now. I've got a lovely list of names waiting for me, and the excitement to act upon the next man is overwhelming me.

"My Lady is finished her shopping for the day?" Sebastian asks, leading me back to where our carriage waits. A small boy has been paid to watch over the horse, and as we appear he pulls heavy blankets off the horse and climbs on top of the carriage to dust all the fresh snow off it.

"Yes and no," I say, using Sebastian's offered hand to climb inside. The boy has kept it warm inside, somehow, and I don't question it. Sebastian hears my answer and waits to close the door behind me, quirking his eyebrow.

"Is there something you would like to purchase before we return home?"

I shake my head, drawing my coat closer around my body. "I would have liked to get a new piece of jewelry, but the appeal is lost now. I feel like I'm being watched and I'd like to get home before we run into Ash again."

Sebastian surprises me – he climbs into the carriage and closes the door behind him, sitting across from me and catching my eyes.

"Rest assured, Mistress, that I can handle any threat that comes your way. You are never in any danger whilst I am with you." Sebastian takes my hands and brings them close to his face, shocking me with what he does next. The now violet-eyed demon kisses the insides of both wrists, locking his eyes with mine.

Heat floods my cheeks – why is Sebastian so very fond of eye-contact?

"Get me home," I manage to say, swallowing the hard lump that has lodged in my throat. Sebastian chuckles and releases my hands.

"Yes, my Lady."

As he exits the carriage and checks the horse to ensure he is ready for travel, I sink down into my seat with a blush. Sebastian can't know exactly how my heart pounds and the feeling of his lips lingers on my wrists, tingling like the after effects of a sharp smack. Of course, this is much more pleasurable than a smack.

The carriage rolls forward, and since the windows are frosted over and keeping me from seeing outside, I entertain myself with my thoughts. It had been all-too easy to forget the three remaining men still alive, but now that my shopping day has wrapped up into an impromptu close, I can revisit the earlier anticipation. And it has my stomach curling with excitement -I want to leave tonight, and I think I'll tell Sebastian we're going to. I wonder what the next man will look like, and if he'll be as complacent as Driar had been before his death at my hand.

Thinking these last five words has a glow of pride flushing over my skin. I'm so very proud of myself that I've been able to end two lives singlehandedly, and the thought of three more kills prickles my skin with delight.

Once home and warmed by the fire, Sebastian brings me one of Driar's annals upon my request, taken from his study. I've forsaken the chair to lie on the floor with my legs up in the air behind me, flipping through the pages. Sebastian watches me with an intrigued expression – perhaps it's seeing a lady lounging on her stomach in a fine dress that has his mouth twitching with amusement, or maybe it's something else. At any rate, the eyes that I can feel on me are unnerving to say the least, but I try to shrug it off and focus.

"Our next target is Carter Dennings," I say aloud, underlining his name with my finger. "And he lives in Ashford."

"Ashford?" Sebastian echoes. "That's quite the distance, Mistress. When do you intend to launch your attack on Dennings?"

"Tonight," I say quickly, with no hesitation. "I want to finish this as soon as possible."

"Then perhaps you will entertain the idea of leaving as soon as possible, my Lady," the demon suggests. "With the weather picking up, I have no doubt it will take us several hours to reach Dennings – and that is even moving at my speed."

I toss that idea around in my head, finally nodding and getting to my feet. "I think that sounds like a good idea."

I waste no time – I gather everything I will need, including several hot water bottles to stuff inside my fur coat to keep me warm from the cold. English winters are brutal, and I'm not particularly looking forward to the trip tonight. Sebastian brings several blankets out into the sitting room where we've piled out gear, and it sparks my curiosity.

"So my Lady does not freeze," he tells me, folding the blankets neatly. "I will wrap you in these before we leave, therefore no part of your body will be harmed by cold."

"That's very thoughtful," I tell him, smiling to myself.

"I am loathe to let anything affect my Lady's wellbeing," Sebastian tells me, acting as though that much should be painfully obvious. I want to roll my eyes, but I hold back. Once the trunk is loaded and I am bundled in all of my clothes and wrapped in blankets, Sebastian lifts me into his arms and ducks out the front door.

"Are you sure we won't be seen? It's still daylight,"

"I will ensure we are not seen, Mistress. The falling snow should help, too." Sebastian is right – even though he leaps from tree to tree like a monkey, no faces turn in our direction and no one points us out. I'm thankful Sebastian thought to wrap me in blankets; it's absolutely freezing. I bury my face in my blankets, wishing my feet were a little better wrapped but settling for what I have going. Sebastian's body is warm, so I press myself as tightly to his chest as I can and feel his arm tighten around me. The other one is holding the trunk, and I'm amazed he can handle my weight, even if it isn't much.

Another thing that amazes me is just how I'm able to fall asleep.

Sebastian is walking down an empty street when I open my eyes and look about wildly, unsure of my surroundings.

"I'm glad you are awake, my Lady, because we are nearly there."

I make Sebastian stop walking to set me down, keeping my blankets around me as best I can. Ashford is a tiny, quaint town; empty, due to the weather, but cute nonetheless. It isn't too late; probably around dinner time, but the streets are abandoned. Unlike London, Ashford's cobblestone roads aren't shoveled to make travel easier. Countless footprints dot the snow and there are no tracks from carriage wheels to be seen, making me wonder if anyone in Ashford even has a carriage.

"How long were we traveling?"

"Nearly four hours," he says, dusting his shoulders from snow. Ice is crystalling on the edges of my blankets and my breath rises above my head like a cloud, but my mind is on the imminent kill. Sebastian walks close to me and I feel his arms brushing against my shoulders, but there is no warmth despite the closeness. I'm shivering from cold, so when Sebastian steers us down a narrow lane lined with small houses and stops us in front of one, I grin with happiness.

"How would you like to approach Dennings, Mistress? Would you like to use the 'stranded' excuse?"

"Yes," I say. "I think that's the most believable." I peel my blankets off, shivering more and more with every shed layer. Sebastian tucks the blankets under his arm and gestures for me to lead the way.

Denning's house is alive with activity. Lights shine from inside and I can see a fireplace through the largest window, but that isn't the only thing I notice. I hold out my arm and stop Sebastian, stilling in my own tracks uncertainly and staring through the window with wide eyes.

Carter Dennings has a family – and I know I can't kill them, too.


	11. Sebastian, lover

**A/N:** Oof, one of my favorite chapters in the entire fic. I think you'll enjoy it aswell. =)

**Warning: **Violence and sexxx. Yeah, baby. =D

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><p>"Sebastian," I turn away from Dennings' home, wringing my hands with fresh uncertainty. I've all but forgotten the cold now – my mind is completely taken with the fact that this murderer has a wife and children. It had been all too easy to end the lives of Driar and England; they were unattached and I was certain no one would miss them. But this man… this night will be different.<p>

"Mistress?" Sebastian voices. "Is something the matter?"

"His family," I strain to say. "I can't take their lives, too."

Sebastian's red eyes search my face, looking for something in my expression. The demon's eyes are unreadable, but I get the feeling he isn't sure how to react. Sebastian glances toward the cheerily lit house, pursing his lips.

"It will be no problem for me to alter their memories," he finally says. "They will not remember a thing."

I sigh and shake my head. "I can't kill Dennings in front of them!"

"Please, leave his family to me, my Lady. They will see nothing nor remember a thing."

"You are not to kill them, Sebastian," I harden my gaze. "That is an order."

Sebastian's answering smile is full of amused mirth, and he places his hand on his breast. "Yes, my Lady."

"We will get inside, and you will quickly place Dennings' family elsewhere while I start. Then return to me."

"As you wish, Mistress."

I turn to the door and step to it with new vigor, satisfied his family will not be present for what I am about to do. I knock on the door firmly, feeling the familiar anticipation and anxiety course through me when the voices on the other side of the door quiet. A moment passes and a man answers, peering out through just a crack in the door as to keep the cold out.

"Can I help you?" I know the man to be Dennings instantly – call it a feeling or whatever you please, but the man with black hair and suspicious brown eyes is most definitely the man I seek. It's very dark outside due to the swirling snow, so I don't bother with shielding my face from him.

"I don't mean to bother you, sir," I _do_, however, disguise my voice into the timid timbre of a fragile woman. "But the storm has caught my colleague and I off-guard. We are here visiting relatives from Dover, and we seem to have lost our way. Might you have the space for us to spend the night? Please know that your kindness will be repaid,"

Dennings hesitates. A pale hand curls over his shoulder and a blonde-haired woman appears next to him; presumably his wife.

"Oh dear, would you look at them! We simply can't leave them out in the cold in such a sorry state of affairs. Please, I insist – come inside and warm yourself with our fire." The woman widens the front door and allows us to come in. I take care to keep my face hidden from Dennings as Sebastian and I slip inside, standing on the threshold and shedding our clothes.

Dennings' home is modest – not too large, not too small. Two very cute children sit in front of the fireplace, a boy and a girl, arguing over a stuffed rabbit that looks like its seen better days. The kids have their mother's blonde hair and their father's brown eyes, and as the door closes behind Sebastian and I they both turn and look curiously. The children can't be older than seven or eight, and they're dressed in similar white nightgowns.

"Please excuse the state of our home," the wife says, quickly bustling around the sitting room and tidying up. "We weren't expecting company."

"You have a lovely home," I tell her. The kids are staring at me and it makes my heart pound – it's like they know what I'm going to do to their father in mere minute's time. "And your children are angels."

I feel Sebastian's hands on my shoulders and I turn to face him, allowing the demon to remove my fur coat. I still have my mink stole on underneath thanks to all my bundling to keep warm, and it shields my demon marks from their view. I don't want anyone to see them that have no business doing so.

"Just try getting them to eat their vegetables," the wife jokes, ushering her children to stand. "This is Christopher and Christina Dennings," she pats each child on the head at the mention of their names, and they smile beautifically. "My name is Lucy, and that there is my grump of a husband, Carter."

I can't help but grin when Dennings grumbles at his nickname. But it is when the man sends his wife an affectionate look that I feel my heart constrict. Can I do this?

Sebastian's eyes are focused on me, and perhaps he sees the doubt in my eyes.

"Lovely to meet all of you," he speaks, startling me. "I am Sebastian, and this is my Lady Valentina." I cringe, waiting for Dennings to react to my name, but he does not. "Might you show us to the place we will be sleeping? My Lady and I will share a room, of course, to keep our intrusion on your lives to a minimum."

Lucy nods quickly, looking abashed for not doing so sooner. "Please excuse me! Where are my manners!" She exclaims aloud, picking up my fur coat and draping it over her arm. "We have a spare bedroom upstairs. I do hope it will suit you," she leads the way, leaving her children and husband downstairs. Sebastian follows me; the feeling of his red gaze burning through my shoulders. I know he read the doubt in my eyes, and I'm sure he wants to comment on it.

Lucy opens the door to reveal a bed smaller than mine, a compact dresser and washing basin. "Will it do?" She asks. The blonde woman hangs my jacket up on a coat rack, stroking the soft fur with her hand. "Marvelous jacket," she comments. "It's so soft!"

"Thank you," I say, removing my hat. "It was a gift from my mother before she died."

"Oh, dear," Lucy frowns, turning towards me. "Were you very old when she passed?"

A hard lump builds in my throat, and I start feeling very bad about what I'm going to do before I leave here tonight.

"I was fourteen," I tell her, watching Sebastian shed his jacket and hat. He sets the trunk down on the floor and drops his jacket down on top of it to block it from sight.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Lucy clasps her hands together, looking like she wants to hug me. I take a single step toward Sebastian just in case – I've never liked hugs. "Well, when you and your colleague are settled in, I will have some warm stew heated up for you to chase the cold from your bones. Just come on back downstairs when you're ready!"

Lucy leaves us be, and Sebastian shuts the door after her.

"I'm not sure I can do this one, Sebastian." I sit down on the bed and lace my fingers together nervously, seeing him come to me out of the corner of my eye. The red-eyed demon kneels in front of me and touches my face, lifting my head so our eyes meet.

"Do not doubt yourself, Mistress. Doubt will only make your performance suffer."

"But his _family_, Sebastian. You see how kind they are."

Sebastian shakes his head and his eyes burn. "My Lady, if I may? Your family was kind, once. And they were victimized - by the man waiting downstairs."

I bite my lip, hating his statement and the truth in it. "I can't let his kids see me kill their father,"

Sebastian grins – but it is a dark, tainted smile. "Your father was killed in front of you, do you remember? You and your sisters were nothing but innocent children when your lives were changed forever, Mistress. Your innocence stripped away," he hesitates, pushing a piece of hair back from my face and locking gazes. "And driven into my welcoming arms." Sebastian's gaze simmers and softens, stilling my heart for a few long moments. It looks as though he intends to kiss me, but he does not. I have no reason to feel cheated, and yet I do. Instead of feeling that way, I grab two fistfuls of his lapel and bring him roughly forward, crushing my lips to his. I'm trying to work myself up – I need to abandon this weak mindset and get my head where it needs to be.

Sebastian does not falter – he accepts the kiss in stride and his hands grasp my legs, fingers digging into my skin.

I break the kiss – now is not the time _or_ place for such actions.

"You're right," I tell him, gritting my teeth. Sebastian's expression is confusing me, but the look in his eyes isn't. The pentagrams inside their wine-red depths glow faintly; but bright enough for me to see. "I am not weak. Dennings will pay."

Sebastian's answering smile is still a dark one. "I will control the wife and children and escort them from the room, Mistress" he tells me, lifting his hands to undo the stole from around my shoulders. His white-gloved hands stroke over his marks, ghosting over my skin. "And then you will exact punishment for his sins."

I smile at his choice of words and stand, pulling my hair forward to try and shield my chest from view, standing before the bedroom door. Sebastian picks up the trunk and hands it to me, opening the door to take the lead. I hang back, waiting for Sebastian's control to begin. When Lucy, Christopher and Christina walk down the hallway with dead expressions on their faces, I leave the room.

Sebastian is facing a very confused Dennings, who keeps trying to peer past the demon toward the stairwell. When I appear, completely freed of any disguising clothing, his eyes harden.

"I knew you'd come for me, next." Dennings' voice is steely, and the man balls his fists together. "Don't think it'll be very easy for you to off me like Driar and England," he snarls. "I won't go down so easily."

"I understand," I tell him, setting the trunk on the table. It knocks over the twin bowls of steaming stew onto the floor and I feel just a little bad for trashing Lucy's kindness, but I shove that feeling away and lock it up. "You want to protect your family. It's very admirable of you, trust me. I know the feeling."

I withdraw the rope from inside the trunk, seeing the way Dennings glares. "But the one thing _you_ fail to understand is how deep-rooted of an emotion revenge is. Nothing is as sweet, or so they say." I toss the rope to Sebastian and the demon turns his eyes on Dennings, letting the ultraviolet steal over the red. Dennings gulps, but he does a better job of controlling his fear than Driar or England.

"I'll beat your butler to a pulp if he comes near me with that," Dennings hisses, doing his best to stand tall in the face of the unknown adversary that is Sebastian.

"I think you fail to realize something else, too," I say, digging through the trunk to find my dagger. "And that being Sebastian's nature. See, he isn't a butler," I move closer to Dennings, standing next to Sebastian. "He's not even human!" I can't help but chuckle at Dennings' expression. No doubt he knows exactly what Sebastian is now – Driar and England both did.

"Does the word _demon_ sound familiar?"

Dennings' eyes glaze over and that's when Sebastian moves – with speed so blindingly fast, he ties the man up around his wrists and ankles. The black-haired man falls to the ground and curses, writhing like a snake on the floor to try and sit up. The sight is so comical that it makes me laugh and Dennings curses at me.

"You are a monster now," he spits, narrowing his eyes. "Don't touch my family."

"Are you happy, though? You created me. I am this way because of your attacks on my friends and family. Sebastian is mine because I can't do it alone."

Dennings scoffs. "That's pathetic. I _never_ targeted you – she did. She is the one who wants you the way you are now. Does it feel good knowing you're playing right into her hands?"

I growl, striding forward to kick Dennings in the gut. I must've used more force than expected, because the man on the ground screams and doubles up, trying to shield himself with anything he can. The force of my kick is unsteady to me as well; Sebastian has to reach out and keep me from falling with one hand.

"Tell me who you're talking about. Who is this woman you mention?"

Dennings chuckles weakly to himself. "One kick won't make me open up to _you_, Augustine. It's going to take a whole hell of a lot more than that."

I grit my teeth with anger, palming my dagger and squatting in front of the prone man. Dennings squares his jaw in an effort to look tough, but I see the pinpricks of fear in his dark eyes.

"That's what Driar and England both said," I smile to myself. "But in the end, they both sang."

"They are _weak_," Dennings is practically spitting on himself with the force of his words. "She should have trusted _me_ to do it all! I am the only one she needed!"

I glance up at Sebastian curiously, but the demon's violet gaze offers me nothing.

I move a little closer to Dennings, seeing the way his eyes have begun to glaze over once more. I can't help but wonder if this man is touched in the head at all, or if he is just very passionate about what he's saying.

"She would be mine if not for _him_," Dennings snarls, blinking rapidly. I grimace at the spit leaking from the corner of his mouth. I'm sick of waiting for him to say something relevant. I press my blade into Dennings throat and the man's eyes go wide, searching mine.

"You don't have it in you," he challenges me. "I doubt you could even cut me good enough to get me to talk."

I growl, raising the dagger high above my head and plunging it into his chest, slashing down to his belly button and relishing in the sound of his screams. Dennings' blood splatters me and it feels satisfying to know my blade is harming him. The man squeezes his eyes shut as tightly as they can go and groans, rolling over onto his back.

"Is that good enough for you?"

"Good enough," Dennings echoes. "Ask me something. I'm tired of this charade I play for my wife and kids. I'm ready for it to end."

"Who is the woman you speak of?"

"I don't know her name," he wheezes. That pisses me off, so I ball my free hand into a fist and slam it down on his fresh cuts. The man screams in pain and tries to ball himself up with little success. "I don't! None of us do! She never told us. She said it would be too easy to tell someone and her whole plan would be ruined."

"What plan?"

"The one to destroy you," he groans again, rolling back onto his side with an expression of pain dominating his features. Sebastian kneels at my side and his touch startles me, making me whip my head in his direction quickly.

"My Lady, keep it up. He is telling you everything you want." Sebastian's eyes are brighter than I've ever seen them – the violet resembling flames as they roil in his irises. "Do not spend you energy too quickly, Mistress. Make him suffer, and make his pain worth all of yours."

The black-haired demon stands and takes his place a casual distance behind me, watching Dennings with disgusted eyes. I turn my attention back to the man.

"Tell me everything you know about this woman, or I'll bring your kids down here and make them suffer just as you are."

"No, please!" Dennings goes wide-eyed, searching frantically for his two children. "They have nothing to do with any of this! No one knows my past," he quiets, and it makes me feel guilty for dredging his children in to use as a threat. I quickly push that away, remembering how I was a mere child when he inflicted such pain into my world.

"Talk." For good measure, I cut away Dennings' shirt to have better access to his chest, smiling to myself when I see how his blood has spread out and dripped onto the floor.

"Like I said before, we don't know her name. She is just a nameless face. But when she calls on us to do her bidding, we can't disobey her. There's something about her purple eyes that draw you in and hold you – as though she is controlling your very soul." This time I have to look at Sebastian again, and I see that there is surprise written plainly on his face.

"What do you think that could mean?" I ask him, seeing how he shrugs.

"I know not, my Lady. But my first guess is that this woman may actually be a demon."

"No," Dennings says. The amount of conviction in his tone has me looking quickly back to him, arching my eyebrows and waiting for him to elaborate. "She is no demon. There is no terror when you look at her – only the desire to fulfill her every command."

"That doesn't mean she isn't a demon," I tell him, leaning closer to the injured man. Sweat beads on his forehead and drips into his eyes, making the man blink rapidly. "It probably means she knows how to hypnotize."

"No!" Dennings shouts, writhing on the ground. "Not a demon! Not a demon!"

His act is getting old, so I slap his face and injuries at the same time. "Shut up!" I screech, growing angrier and angrier. Dennings won't knock it off, so I give him another bloody embellishment. It sends him deathly quiet, but he is still alive. The man blinks slowly, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression. I wonder if I've killed my chances of learning anything else about this woman.

"Where does she live? Where do you go to meet her?"

Dennings turns his head toward me slowly. "Someplace in London," he tells me, beginning to breathe rapidly. "It has no address and has no name. It's just a warehouse by the train line." I hope Sebastian is committing everything Dennings' has said to memory, because I know I've probably forgotten a little of it.

"A warehouse," I repeat dubiously. "And what's in this warehouse?"

Dennings shakes his head. "Nothing," he says. "A table and some chairs. We kept everything in Ernest's study."

"Names, photographs; yeah, I've got them all. You can thank Driar for telling me about them and giving me your name," I grin at Dennings' expression.

"Stop lying," he whispers, his eyes wavering. "Ernest would never betray his brothers."

"Well, that's exactly what he did." I don't really appreciate being called a liar, so I let the tip of my blade trail over his stomach and watch the way he shudders. "I told you they sang."

Dennings sighs, quickly whimpering in pain when the action pulls at his wound. "You might as well kill me," he says. "I've got nothing more to tell you."

"You certainly are a poor sport," I observe, resting my elbow on my leg and setting my head in my hand. "Matthew was a lot more fun. He didn't beg as much as you, but your first kill is _always_ the most fun."

"Your demon is tainting you," Dennings says suddenly, widening his eyes. "He is poisoning your soul and forever keeping you from heaven!"

"If Sebastian is doing these things then it's news to me," I say. "Because the last time I checked, I was doing everything on my own. I'm content with where I'll end up when I die, because I know I will have done everything I wanted to. Including killing you and your mysterious woman."

I feel Sebastian's eyes on my back as I say these things, and the gaze is burning hot. It makes every cell stand on high alert and for the first time I'm doubting whether Sebastian will stick to the contract and wait to devour my soul once I've finished everything I've set out to accomplish.

"If you find the warehouse you'll find her," he tells me. "But you'll have to kill the rest of us first." Dennings' voice is getting softer and fuzzier; more challenging to understand with each passing second. I know he's close to losing consciousness, so I make things quick.

"I appreciate your cooperation, bud," I drag my knife up to his throat, seeing how he tenses. "But I'm going to have to kill you now. I've gotten all I care to from you, but in case you left something out – there are still two other men to go through. I think it's time I give you over to Sebastian."

I stand, wiping my blade on one of the folds in my dress. "All yours," I gesture to the trembling man with my thumb and see the way Sebastian leans forward in anticipation, taking a few steps toward Dennings. I present them my back, unwilling to see him steal Dennings soul. All I hear is Dennings' whimpering before total silence greets me, and Sebastian's hand on my back tells me he's done.

"I will fetch our belongings, Mistress." Sebastian disappears up the steps and when he returns, he's holding all of our clothes. I've squatted in front of Dennings' soulless body, eyeing his injuries with morbid curiosity. The long cut from his chest to his navel is still weeping, even after death, and the several slashes I had added to it to get Dennings to shut up look red and angry. The smeared image of my handprint on his stomach makes me smile, but it's no good to keep like that. I rub my hand over the print, disguising it with the rest of his blood and take a moment to draw the number '3' on his forehead like Driar and England.

"What will happen to the wife and kids?" I wipe my bloody hands on my red dress, getting to my feet and turning to Sebastian. The demon holds my coat out for me and I toss the dagger into the trunk before sliding my arms through my coat and buttoning it, accepting the blankets from Sebastian and beginning the tedious task of wrapping myself up.

"They will have no memory of tonight. They will wake in the morning and find Dennings' body, but no trace or recollection of how it came to be. Rest assured my Lady will get off scot-free."

I snort, rolling my eyes. "I never doubted that," I say. "I just wanted to make sure they are safe."

"As safe as can be, Mistress."

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><p>I think killing is the only reason Sebastian can't seem to keep his hands away from my body.<p>

I feel like it takes no time at all to get home from Ashford, and once we've gotten inside, the demon draws me a bath. But he also insists on undressing me and scouring over my body with lustful eyes. I don't mind in the least – Sebastian's kiss is like addictive fire. I can't get enough of it. The violet-eyed demon bathes me; rolling his shirt sleeves up and wiping me down with a soft cloth. That's not all he does, though, and those extra things have my eyes rolling with pleasure. I can't help from spreading my legs and guiding his hand just where I want it, biting my lip to keep from crying out. Sebastian's fingers know just where to touch – a swirl here and a firm push there and I feel my legs turn to mush.

My fingers dig into his arm, keeping his hand firmly anchored between my legs. My toes curl and hot anticipation dances below my navel, threatening to steal over me with a wave of bliss, but I keep myself from giving in. I know that once I'm out of the tub, Sebastian will take me to the bed. And that is what I desire most.

By the time I deem myself clean enough; Sebastian's eyes are wild and unrestrained. I don't know how clean I truly am, but at least I'm not spotted with blood anymore. Besides; I can't keep myself in this tub any longer with Sebastian's expression so consuming. The demon wraps me in a towel and holds me against his body, picking me up to carry me from the bathroom. It makes me grin, especially when his dark laughter teases me. His lips find any patch of available skin and soon I am breathing hard, just from his kiss and touch alone.

Sebastian begins the task of drying me off, but it is a long and drawn-out process. Especially since he has kneeled before me and is covering every inch of newly dried skin with his kisses. As he moves lower and lower I have to grip the bedpost to keep my legs from giving out. He curls his arms around my waist and pulls me closer, pressing his lips just below my navel. I drag my fingers through my wet hair with a strangled cry of delight, willing myself not to get any louder. Sebastian lifts his eyes and meets mine – his half-lidded gaze is so tainted by desire that it sends a shiver down my spine and I run my fingers through his hair, silently persuading him to kiss lower.

He complies, gently pushing me backwards until my legs hit the bed. I sit myself down and Sebastian leans toward me, cupping my neck to draw me closer and kiss me. His mouth is slow and deliberate, lips soft and tongue slick. I can feel just how quickly my heart pounds against my ribcage, as though it were a wild bird reluctantly caged. Sebastian kisses a soft line down my throat, skimming deliciously over my breasts and stomach, giving me a silent cue to lean down on the bed. I curl my fingers, grabbing handfuls of the blankets as he continues to trail kisses down my body, stopping right between my hip bones and meeting my eyes.

Sebastian's gaze is so loaded and heavy that I can only smile and feel my blood race in anticipation. He glances down at my naked womanhood and licks his lips, running his hands over my calves and working higher to spread my knees apart. The air is chilly and makes me shiver, but also reminds me just what is going to happen. The demon places little strategic kisses along the inside of my thighs, keeping his eyes on mine. But when his mouth reaches its destination and I see a flash of his pink tongue, I throw my head back and moan deeply.

What is it about a tongue that can make you swoon so quickly? I arch my back and scoot closer to him instinctually, unable to keep myself from moving under the thorough wash of his tongue. It's hitting all my most sensitive areas – swirling around the bead of pleasure he knew how to touch in the bathtub and stroking every available area.

"Oh, God…" I moan, covering my mouth and squeezing my eyes shut. I feel his fingers join his tongue, two at a time, stretching me out needlessly. I'm almost to the point where I can handle no more; I've been so thoroughly worked up that it's only fair he finish the job with what I'm waiting most for. When I'm certain Sebastian is deliberately delaying the inevitable, the demon finally gets up. He moves to unbutton his shirt and I eagerly sit up to help him, pushing his hands away to do it myself. Sebastian chuckles low, and when I pull his shirt off his shoulders to run my hands over his chest I see just how filled with desire he really is.

The tell-tale bulge in his pants brings a smile to my face. Sebastian's fingers curl through my hair as I work to unbutton his pants next and release him from them, noticing just how he not-so-subtly nudges my head in the direction of his crotch. I grin to myself. I take his length in my hand and experimentally flick my tongue over the tip, hearing the way Sebastian groans in response. That is encouraging, so I drag my tongue under his length, along the vein there. The demon's hips buck forward, so I press my hands firmly into his hips to keep them stationary before taking all of him in my mouth.

Sebastian's hands tighten in my hair, letting me know I'm doing something right. I fit him completely in my mouth and swallow around him, pleased to hear Sebastian's moan. It doesn't take too long of this before Sebastian is pulling himself back, pulling me down onto the bed next to him. I take his face in my hands, kissing his lips with earnest. Sebastian's hands grasp me tightly, undoubtedly creating more half-moon shaped bruises to match the ones already there.

I swing my leg over his waist and straddle him, feeling his erection brush between my legs. It is so tantalizing that I consider taking him completely, but there's no fun in that. Instead, I let his erection continue to brush against me, seeing the way Sebastian's eyes burn out of control. I swirl my hips with a half-smile, content to watch the barely-contained restraint flicker across his face.

"My Lady…" he breathes, "no more of this…"

I keep my body placed exactly where it is, stretching forward to rest my chest on his. I drag my finger along his lower lip, meeting his heavy eyes with an expression that matches his.

"No more teasing?" To further torture him I give my hips a backwards flick, watching Sebastian flinch and fight the urge to take control. I press my lips softly to his, massaging the base of his neck with my fingers. Sebastian's hands slide down to cup my butt, roughly pushing me up just a bit. I gasp in surprise against his mouth and tug his hair in reprimand.

"None of that," I tell him, stretching myself luxuriously up so he can enjoy the whole picture. "I am in charge." I lean back down in such a way as to invite his mouth to cover one of my breasts, and he needs no further hints. His tongue swirls over my sensitive nipple, making me buck and arch my back to press against him. He uses one hand to cup the other breast, while his second hand snakes down my side and eagerly finds my wet core. Finally, I can take no more. I push up, pulling his hand out of the way and raising slightly on my legs, reaching down between them to angle Sebastian's cock perfectly.

We both moan when I lower myself slowly down.

I feel impossibly slick and full. I know I won't last very long before reaching my orgasm, but I still make the best of it all. Sebastian's unrestrained eyes lock onto mine, until I have to squeeze mine shut. I feel my release building quickly, forming in my stomach like a warm knot and finally untangling to spread all throughout my body. I gasp, moaning Sebastian's name and slumping forward, suddenly tired.

But the demon is not finished quite yet. He rolls us over so I'm on my back and continues to thrust, lifting one of my legs to rest on his shoulder to deepen the penetration. Even though I've orgasmed already and would _love_ to sleep, I want Sebastian to reach the finish line, too. The demon bends forward, capturing my mouth with his and kissing me roughly, moving his lips in synch with each thrust. The slap of our bodies colliding is quickly growing to be one of my favorite sounds and I already feel another orgasm building within me, threatening to overcome me.

Sebastian runs his hand through my hair, tilting my head back and growling with animalistic passion into my neck. I arrange my legs so they are locked around his waist; a more comfortable position for the both of us. Sebastian's pace increases and so does his heavy breathing, letting me know how close he is to his orgasm. And when he comes, he drives deeply into me and groans deeply, holding my body firm to his. I don't worry about feeling unsatisfied – especially not when my second orgasm peaks and I arch my back and curl my toes, letting out a batch of pent up breath.

The demon continues to hold me like that; still sheathed completely inside me despite having gone soft. I maneuver my arms so I can wrap them around his neck, rolling us so we're on our sides. Sebastian places soft kisses over my neck, leading up to my ear. I feel his tongue and teeth graze over my earlobe and it makes me laugh, swatting him away. We're both sticky with sweat and still trying to catch our breath, so Sebastian doesn't immediately begin to dress like he has in the past. But I like that – it makes me feel closer to him.

I'm starting to get a little nervous; I know I have developed feelings for the demon. I need to shrug those away, and quickly – already three of my five targets have been taken out. With this quick pace I foresee it only being another few days before everyone else is dead, except for the mysterious woman. I don't want my thoughts to go right back to the nameless woman, so I turn my head toward Sebastian and open my eyes to distract myself.

Sebastian's red eyes are watching me, and the pentagrams inside look like they're sizzling.

"Mistress, what is on your mind?" His voice is a low murmur; apparently this moment inspires low speech. I take a minute before I answer, combing his black hair out of his face with my fingers.

"A little of everything, really."

Sebastian doesn't respond. He instead waits for me to elaborate, knowing I will without any prompting.

"Mostly, though, I'm thinking about how dumb it is that I feel the way I do about you."

I'm a little taken back by the lack of surprise on Sebastian's face. "Why is that, my Lady?"

I sigh, pulling away from him to lie on my back. I realize I'm still butt-naked, so I angle my hips upward and pull the blankets down from underneath me, not failing to catch how Sebastian watches intently.

"Because you are demon, and I am a human woman. It's not natural, nor is it plausible. I'm stupid to even delude myself into thinking you could ever have the same feelings for me as I do you, and quite frankly I'm getting rather fed up with it."

Sebastian props himself up on his elbow, looking confused. "Excuse me, Mistress, but I do not think I understand. Are you saying you don't want any of this?" I know what he's referring to, and I shake my head quickly.

"No, I'm not saying that at all. I'm saying that I just wish we could do this without my growing feelings for you."

"What sort of feelings are you talking about, my Lady?"

So far I've been surprised at my lack of embarrassment while discussing this subject, but his sentence has the red creeping into my cheeks. I turn my head away to hide my eyes from his piercing gaze, swallowing thickly.

"That I like you. More than I should like the demon who will kill me."

Sebastian chuckles softly and his hand slides across my stomach, pulling me closer. "I will not presume to deny the fact that I will indeed bring about your end to humanity, Mistress, and I will not deny that perhaps your feelings are not as one-sided as you think."

I refuse to let my hope grow at his words, but I still turn my head to look at him. I'm almost positive that there is no way he knows what he's saying.

"You have no idea what you're saying, do you?" I want to let the inner smile stretch across my face, but I refuse to let myself have any hope. Sebastian shakes his head firmly, two times.

"On the contrary, Mistress, I know exactly what I am saying."

"Demons don't love. They don't – no, they _can't_ get feelings for mortals. I'm kind of amazed you can even _sleep_ with a mortal woman without burning up."

Sebastian laughs, shaking his head. "For being a mortal yourself, Mistress, you certainly do presume to know so much about my kind," he drums his fingers on my hip pointedly, eliciting an annoyed scowl from me.

"Then share with me about your kind, since I seem to be getting it all wrong."

Sebastian fights a smile. "Demons can do anything a mortal can… but you are right about one aspect. A demon cannot love – at least, he cannot love a mortal. My kind knows no love to speak of, but there are other emotions just as strong that we have molded into our own. Love… perhaps not. But is hatred not as strong? And what of revenge? Mistress, do not allow yourself to think that a demon cannot _feel_," Sebastian pauses, meeting my eyes solidly. "Because we most certainly can feel."

I don't quite know how to reply to that, so I don't. I instead let myself search his eyes, trying to decipher everything inside their depths. The wine-red is so vivid in the darkness that it is almost frightening, but I've grown used to seeing them now. It's only when the white pentagrams come forth that I get a little alarmed, because there is absolutely nothing normal about that. Sebastian traces my marks with his finger, following the curve of a spiral and encircling the pentagram. The touch has my skin covered in goosebumps, and I want to touch him too – but I'm suddenly shy. The demon presses his finger over the tender area of my bite mark, looking thoughtful.

"Why is it you drink my blood?" I ask abruptly, seeming to take him by surprise.

"Because the call of your soul is so potent that I cannot resist, my Lady." Sebastian's eyes are trained on the bite-mark bruise and I can tell he wants to reopen the wound again. "I believe I have told you this before." A smile now plays on his lips.

"Why is that?" I hedge quickly, starting to grow uncertain of the expression in his eyes.

"Never before have I come across a soul so perfectly suited to my tastes," he tells me. "My Lady is absolutely irresistible, and because your soul is not ready to take yet I must resort to devouring your blood before I starve."

"Starve?" I echo in alarm, sitting up. "What do you mean?"

Sebastian mirrors me, smiling. "Not in the typical sense, Mistress." he reassures me. "A demon starving is like a human athlete being weak and unable to go through his usual activities."

I relax, comforted Sebastian won't _die_. "Oh," I voice. I'm beginning to notice that nothing is how it really seems when it comes to demons – they don't eat in the typical sense, they don't starve in the typical sense nor do they need sleep… in the typical sense, I'm sure.

"Do you need my blood now?" I ask suddenly, unsure of where the question springs from. Sebastian's eyes darken and return to my bite mark. He doesn't answer; merely moves closer to me and pulls me forward, touching his lips to the day-old injury. I can feel my heart beating nervously as his tongue swipes over the mark. His teeth graze it and I feel a wet sensation that is something other than his tongue – my blood, pooling in his mouth.

The demon pauses to speak darkly: "I don't need it… but I want it."

Sebastian only takes a little, seeming to draw back and away quickly. He licks the leftover blood from his mouth and wipes it off my chest deftly, his eyes seeming to glow brighter now.

"What does that make you feel like?" I ask, pulling the covers back over my lap. Sebastian angles himself to join me and I find myself moving closer to him, propping the pillows under my body to make myself more comfortable.

"It makes me feel invincible," he tells me, sending his gaze to the ceiling. "I am certainly capable and strong any other day, but my Lady's blood is like an incomparable healing agent. I feel the strongest when I devour your blood, because it is indirectly connected to doing the same with your soul."

I'm not sure how I feel about that, so I merely swallow by way of answer.

"What does my soul look like?" I'm not sure what sparked this question, and I can tell it even catches Sebastian a little off-guard. His red eyes dance as they hold mine, showing he's thinking over just how to answer my question.

"You do not 'see' a soul, per se," Sebastian begins, leaning back against my pillows in an attempt to make himself comfortable. "It is more like getting an impression, my Lady. Your soul is intriguing – it resembles thick crimson smoke, almost, intertwined with black. The two colors undulate and twist upon themselves and yet, there is a pearly, pure center to it. It is definitely one that rouses questions as to why your soul looks the way it does."

"You say there is a white center?" I repeat, feeling just how my mind turns over with questions. I'm intelligent enough to figure out that Sebastian's use of crimson and black is a metaphor to describe the freshly bloomed evil in my heart, but the talk of a white center confuses me.

"Yes, Mistress. Although it is a much cleaner color – one that I can only akin to purity."

"There is nothing pure left in my body," I counter, glancing away. "My soul is promised to a demon – all pretenses of _purity_ were signed away with your demonic contract." I feel Sebastian's heated gaze on my face, but it does not prompt me to look his way.

"Your soul is a perfect example of what all demons hunger for. We strive to seek out the wickedest of souls and claim them for our own."

"But when you met me, I wasn't wicked just yet. I don't see how my soul could have been crimson before I killed three men, Sebastian. How does that work?"

The dark-haired demon smiles. "As a demon, I am able to completely assess and look over a new soul, within seconds of meeting its owner. I can feel your intents and sense your innermost desires, instantly. Your soul is no different, although I was immediately able to pick out the budding malevolence within you. The intent you harbored for evil was so strong, it certainly surprises me that the other demons did not instantly flock to you."

"You and Ash both did," I remind him, fighting a smile at his exasperated look. "I swear you followed me like a dog."

Sebastian makes a sour face at the comparison, shaking his head. "Trust me, Mistress; it was for your own protection. Ash does not have the same amount of self-control as I do."

This time I do grin, laughing. "Self-control? I think the bruises on my skin tell otherwise." The moonlight finally breaks through the cloud cover and shines down on the snow outside, borrowing the clean whiteness to illuminate everything else. It lights up Sebastian's pale skin, gathering my attention. The demon laughs low, gesturing to his shoulders where his own sets of hickeys are.

"I think my Lady ought to rethink that statement." The smile on his face is hard to ignore, and I roll my eyes so he can't tell how embarrassed I am. His bruises are little half-moon circles, crusted with freshly dried specks of blood. As bad as they look, the scratches on my hips hurt and look worse from when the demon had held them up and against his own.

"And like I mentioned before, Ash's self-control is lacking," Sebastian leans back down, resting his head on the pillows. "If he and you were to sleep together like we have, Mistress; there is no doubt in my mind that he would ultimately end up killing you."

I swallow thickly, unwilling to let Sebastian see how his words frighten me. But at the same time, I'm more than a little pleased he referred to our tryst as 'sleeping together', instead of some of the nastier words it's been called before. The faceless men from my past would often use crude, dirty words to describe it and just thinking of them makes me cringe.

"Well… great," I manage to say, seeing Sebastian's dark smirk. The demon leans forward again and his red eyes scour over the hickeys and scratches given to me mere minutes ago. I pull the blankets up completely, feeling self-conscious at his close scrutiny. The silence that now reigns between us is pregnant and awkward, and I'm desperate to fill it with talk again. I don't want Sebastian to leave and I don't want to sleep just yet, so I dredge up the one thing that has been on my mind since the first time I pulled him into my bed.

"I have to ask," I say abruptly. "Is it only my soul that attracted you to me?"

Sebastian meets my eyes curiously, and the look on his face makes my spirits sink. "Does that upset you, my Lady?"

I glance away, feeling a hard lump grow in my throat. "No." I'm hoping the red-eyed demon won't notice the lie in my answer.

Sebastian leans toward me, his eyes aglow. "While it cannot be denied that I am a demon, I was once a man. And starting as such, there are times when it is hard for me to keep my desires in check if I am around a mortal woman of great beauty. And there is no denying that while the call of your soul is strong, the allure of your beauty is just as great, my Lady." Sebastian's hand has worked its way down my side, pushing the blanket away. His fingers probe my tender scratches and it makes me flinch lightly. Sebastian does not miss the reaction.

He leans forward the rest of the way, pulling my body flush to his. My breath catches as his hands cup my face, pressing his lips softly to mine. This way of kissing takes me by surprise; it is strangely gentle and patient. My hands reach around him to hold myself as tight as I possibly can, intoxicated by the feel of Sebastian's skin against mine. I can't help tangling my fingers in his hair, tracing his lower lip with my tongue and snagging it between my teeth.

That elicits a groan from the demon and he pulls away, letting me see his half-lidded, violet eyes. He smirks and his hands run over my shoulders, feeling his lower lip with his tongue.

"Even in passion you are violent, Mistress," Sebastian tells me. The violet in his eyes is strikingly bright now, and it is new to me. "It is hard for me to keep my control when you are like this."

"Just think of it as a precursor to my soul," I tell him, settling down on the pillows. The dark-haired demon is close enough to me to where I can see every inch of his pale chest clearly, and I can't keep my hands from running over his muscle.

"If you keep these things up I know I will not be able to hold myself back, my Lady." Sebastian's eyes return to red, fizzling slowly back to their normal color. The demon clasps my hands between his own and he dips his head down. I feel his lips on the tender wound on my collarbone, stimulating it with his tongue. It stings worse this time, but I don't exactly want Sebastian to stop. I know he's gotten it to bleed when I feel a warm rivulet drip down my chest to spot the bed in the space between us. I bite my lip to keep from crying out in pain, tugging absently on his hair to alleviate my pain. The feeling of Sebastian's tongue is helping to distract me from the sharp stinging, and I get the feeling he's only taking my blood again because it's getting harder and harder for him to wait for my soul.

Eventually, though, I have to push him away. It's rather difficult to do so – he is reluctant to give up.

"S-Sebastian, stop," I gasp, cupping my hand over my bleeding wound. Sebastian listens, thankfully, because I'm growing lightheaded. His mouth is stained crimson and I watch him lick the blood away, reaching for my hand to do the same.

"Please excuse me, Mistress. I could not help myself."

I can't help but wonder if Sebastian actually_ could_ help himself, but I push that thought from my mind for now. I make myself close my eyes – anything to avoid seeing that wine-red gaze. "My Lady, it is late. I will make sure you are comfortable and take my leave so you may get some sleep." The demon rises gracefully from the bed and pulls the covers over his freshly abandoned space in bed, venturing across the room to my dresser to retrieve a new nightdress for me. I sit up, accepting the garment from him and tugging it over my head, watching Sebastian retrieve his scattered clothing from around the room. The demon's movements are sinuous as he clothes himself swiftly. I wonder if he's purposely letting me see the other side of his nature, because even though each bend of the arm and turn of the head is smooth, it is all still inhumanly fast.

I lean back in bed, studying the demon from across the room. He comes to a stop, finished and impeccably dressed and places his hand over his breast, bending his torso in a bow.

"Sleep well, my Lady. Tomorrow we will continue your revenge, for Ralph Canterbury is next on the list." Sebastian says all of these things with his eyes closed, finally opening them and meeting mine. His words spark excitement within me and I grin, pulling the covers around my body. The red-eyed demon departs after closing my curtains, offering me a second bow before he leaves.

It doesn't take too long to fall asleep, and when I do it's with warmth in my body and a plan in my mind.

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><p><strong>AN: **Things are beginning to heat up... and killing won't come so easily from here on out! =) Reviewreviewreview!


	12. pain, received

**A/N:** As mentioned before, things aren't going to be easy for Valentina anymore! =P

**Warning: **Violence.

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><p>Ralph Canterbury can't live any closer to me if he had purposely tried.<p>

It just serves to make my anger grow; knowing that one of my family's killers lives just a few blocks away, close to the heart of London. Actually, it infuriates me to find that he's lived so close to me without my knowledge. Perhaps Sebastian senses my anger, for the demon goes through his daily routine with near silence. I don't miss his curious looks my way, though, and they only serve to make my anxiety for the night grow. I'm antsy for the day to wrap up – my hands itch to curl around the hilt of my dagger and to palm my pistol.

I know that the longer I sit around with nothing to entertain myself the harder it'll be to get through the day. So instead, I bundle up and head back outside, intending to make a snowman. I'm sure Sebastian can't be bothered to do such trivial mortal things, so I leave him in the kitchen where he's washing dishes. His red eyes follow me outside and I can feel them on my back as I work to pack a snowball, rolling it through the snow until it's as big as I think it should be.

Sebastian wanders outside eventually, standing with his hands behind his back to watch me quietly. By this time I've finished the two bottom snowballs and am working on the third, breathing heavily and feeling my lungs protest with cold-induced aches.

"Is this the snowman you spoke of, Mistress?" Sebastian is at my side without me having realized it, helping me hoist the snowman's head on top of his torso, dusting his white-gloved hands off together.

"Yes," I tell him. "Now we just need some coal for his eyes or something,"

"Let me suggest pieces of charred wood? I don't think we have coal, my Lady."

I shrug, not really caring either way. Sebastian's red eyes shine like rubies with the snow as a background, gleaming brightly. The demon hesitates for a moment, before turning and moving back inside. When he returns, he has several pieces of burned wood in one gloveless hand, a carrot in the other.

"You remembered what I said about the carrot?" I ask, pleasantly surprised. I take the vegetable from Sebastian and stick it in the middle of the snowman's blank face, accepting the wood from him as well to finish the face.

"My Lady, if I may?" Sebastian begins, waiting for me to turn back to him. "Is there a point to any of this?" I can't help but grin in response, snorting with amusement.

"There really isn't a _point_, per se," I say. "It's just for fun." Sebastian watches me for a moment with one slender eyebrow lifted in a silent expression of disbelief. It only makes me laugh, and I pull the demon back into the house to warm up. I've lost interest in the snowman now, and have no intention of dressing him in a scarf or hat anymore.

The red-eyed demon helps me pull my soggy clothing off and I lay on my stomach on the floor, holding my hands in front of the flames.

"My Lady, when would you like to leave for Canterbury's?"

I shrug, kicking my feet in the air. My mind screams at me and tells me to hurry, that I'd love nothing more to go _now_, but it's still daylight and the idea isn't very plausible.

"I want to go as soon as it gets dark," I tell him, turning my head so he can see my eyes.

"And as for after?"

That has me looking back into the flames, silent so I can compose my thoughts. "As for after?" I repeat, watching the orange and yellow dance above the logs. "That will come when it comes."

Sebastian's muted laughter makes me blush – the sound is dark and suggestive. "Yes, my Lady."

When the sun sinks below the horizon, Sebastian and I ready for departure.

I don't bother bundling myself up like last time – Canterbury lives so close that the two of us could _walk_, if we wanted to. My dagger has been cleaned, a new length of rope added to the trunk and my fur jacket donned, and Sebastian picks me up in one arm just like every time. The snow has stopped falling, finally, allowing a crisp silence to reign uninterrupted. There isn't a cloud in the sky and the moon is full and bright – and just looking at it makes my blood race.

It really only takes a few minutes to get to Canterbury's home, and just like at Dennings' every light is on. His curtains are closed and the houses on either side of his are very close, sparking a trickling unease.

"Do you think someone will see us?" I ask once Sebastian has set me down.

"It is unlikely, Mistress." Sebastian adjusts his waistcoat and pulls the watch from his breast pocket, checking it. "It is still early. It is possible that most of his neighbors will be out enjoying the break in the snow." His answer is reassuring, but it does nothing to keep the completely rational fear from growing in my belly. I'm grateful for the tall hedges that block the property line of his home; it is likely I'd doubt myself even more if his property were more open to his neighbors.

"I don't think we should bother with the 'stranded travelers" lie," I say to the demon, leading the way to his front door and lowering my voice. "Let's just go straight inside. I'm tired of the fragile woman charade. I want to bring him his pain as soon as possible."

Sebastian's red eyes brighten, and he smirks. "Yes, my Lady."

I place my hand around the doorknob, turning it gently. I'm not surprised to find it locked, and I hear all movement on the other side of it completely still.

"Locked," I whisper, stepping aside so Sebastian can take my place. The dark-haired demon wrenches the door open with ease, badly startling the blonde man on the other side. He jumps to his feet, rearranging the mask of shock on his face into one of anger.

"Augustine." His voice is even, surprisingly so, and as Sebastian places the door neatly back in place I busy myself with removing my coat.

"You know, I'm always surprised how you guys are able to identify me so quickly," Sebastian takes my coat and hangs it up, shedding his own layers shortly after. Canterbury watches the movements, scoffing.

"Are you always this polite when you break into someone's house?"

"You're the first house we've ever _had_ to break into," I tell him, pulling the trunk onto his table. "The other men let us in." Canterbury takes a backwards step towards the fireplace, snatching something shiny from the mantle. Sebastian stiffens and assumes a quick position in front of me, red eyes glowing. I peer around the protective demon, surprised to see Canterbury has a pistol aimed directly at me. Instead of feeling alarmed, the sight makes me laugh.

"Good for you!" I exclaim, grinning. "You're the only one who tried to protect yourself from me." Canterbury doesn't look amused; he merely cocks the gun and grits his teeth together.

"I'm not going to let you kill me," he says vehemently. "Not like my brothers."

I shake my head, rolling my eyes. "Whether or not you have a gun doesn't matter," I scoff. "You'll die tonight before the sun rises anyway." Even though I'm determined to keep my voice smooth and even, the sight of the gun frightens me.

"Shall I remove the gun from him, Mistress?" Sebastian's voice is hard as steel – tougher than I've ever heard it.

"No," I say, moving myself halfway around the demon. "I want to see what he'll do next." Canterbury's hand shakes – almost imperceptibly – and it makes me smile. "If you give me answers I'll be sure to let you off easy," I tell him with a smile. "I won't cut you apart like the others."

Canterbury shakes his head, keeping the gun trained on me. "You won't cut me at all because I'm going to kill you first." I curl my fingers around Sebastian's shoulder and risk moving a little further around him, but the red-eyed demon moves with me.

"I am sorry, my Lady, but I will not allow this scum to shoot you." Sebastian's protection makes me feel good, but I'm still rather annoyed with this new turn of events. I sigh angrily, removing my hands from the demon's shoulders.

"Fine, Sebastian. Take the gun from him."

"Yes, my Lady."

Sebastian moves quickly, and I hear Canterbury fire. The man knows what he's doing, I'll give him that much – instead of shooting at Sebastian, he shoots at me. And my only mistake was not moving out of the way, because his bullet embeds itself in my upper arm. The blonde man is on the ground in an instant – knocked out cold.

"Mistress!" Sebastian exclaims, dashing back to me with a highly worried expression. The injury stings like hell and blood drips from the wound, but I grit my teeth harshly and wave him away.

"It's nothing," I insist, trying to push him away. Sebastian's hands are strong when they grip my arm, holding it still.

"You are severely injured, Mistress," the demon murmurs, locking his eyes on the injury. I see the pentagrams push forth as his jaw clenches, and I wonder if he's fighting the urge to take my blood. "Perhaps we should return home?"

"No way," I protest, trying to pull my arm free. The pain from my gunshot wound is quickly becoming intolerable, and it's making me aggravated. "We have to finish this. I need him dead."

"Then allow me to bind your wound, please."

I grit my teeth and sigh, waving him to continue. Sebastian releases me for an instant, unbuttoning his tailcoat and un-tucking his white shirt underneath, ripping a good length off. The demon quickly returns his attention to me, pulling my injured arm away from my body and winding the piece of ripped cloth tightly around it in a sort of tourniquet to stave the bleeding.

"This will last until we return home," he tells me. "I will properly dress the wound when we are home, if you insist on finishing this job now."

I steel my mind to block the pain, pursing my lips. Black spots bloom in front of my vision and I try my hardest to keep from passing out, concentrating to take each step.

"I think I should make this quick," I wheeze, taking deep breaths. "I'll just shoot him now." The disappointment flowing through me at not getting to enact harsh revenge is strong, but I can't ignore my gunshot wound just for this. Canterbury is unconscious, anyway, so he won't be of much use to me in that state. I try and bend to pick up Canterbury's gun, but my vision blurs dangerously. I stumble, only kept off the ground by Sebastian's arms.

"My Lady, please," the demon helps me to my feet and winds his arm around my waist to keep me sturdy.

"Stop it," I growl, shaking my head. "Just hand me the pistol."

Sebastian sighs, keeping his hold on me and reaching toward the trunk on the table. It feels like he's taking an eternity to do so, but I know it's really only been a few seconds. I risk a look down at my arm and quickly change my line of sight – Sebastian's shirt piece is completely soaked through, blood dripping down my arm. I hold my hand out and Sebastian sets the pistol gently in it, watching as I curl my fingers slowly around the butt of the gun and aiming shakily. I don't fire, worrying I won't hit my target as true as I could if uninjured.

Sebastian's hand envelopes mine, steadying my aim. When Sebastian's finger curls around mine and pulls inward, it's the only way I pull the trigger. I watch the bullet hit his temple and smile despite my injury and feel my legs give way. I know that a bullet wound like this normally wouldn't have affected me so quickly if I weren't already missing as much blood from Sebastian's taking it from me. The demon takes me up in his arms, turning me away from Canterbury's newly dead body and setting me down in a chair.

Anger and irritation flood through me. I could have pulled the trigger on my own – and that has me angry with the dark-haired demon. I all but ignore him when he speaks:

"Allow me to gather our things, my Lady, and we will return home."

I barely hear him, though; blood loss is slowly getting the better of me. It's a wonder I'm able to keep my eyes open as Sebastian moves quickly around, packing the trunk and dressing himself. He only drapes my fur jacket around my shoulders for fear of irritating my gunshot wound. When he picks me up and turns toward the broken door I dig deep within myself to muster the energy to speak, stopping him before we get outside.

"I have to mark his forehead," I protest, using my good arm to push away from him.

"But Mistress, your wound," he points out, fixing his red eyes on me.

"I have to," I growl passionately, trying to free myself from his arms.

"Allow me to do it, my Lady. I would be loathe to injury you anymore." Sebastian kneels down in front of Canterbury's body and extends an arm, but I grip it tightly and clench my jaw.

"_No_," I seethe. "I need to do it myself. You pulled the trigger for me – let me do this on my own."

The demon sighs in exasperation, but the look in his red eyes tells me he thinks anything but that. Sebastian angles me perfectly, letting me stretch out my arm to dab my finger in Canterbury's still-warm blood and draw a shaky '4' on his forehead. It gives me a feeling of muted satisfaction knowing I've done it – even though this has been a wasted trip, placing the final touch on his lifeless body helps to alleviate the disappointment.

"Take me home, Sebastian." I close my eyes, feeling the demon get to his feet.

But nothing more, for that is the moment I lose consciousness.

When I open my eyes, Sebastian is leaning towards me with my arm in his grasp. The demon's hands are gentle as he unties the makeshift tourniquet from my upper arm, setting the soiled rag into an empty bowl.

"My Lady, are you well enough to endure my removal of the bullet?" He dabs at the wound with a rag soaked in an antiseptic liquid, making me hiss in pain and jerk back. Sebastian's grip is tighter than my reaction, though, so I really don't make much progress.

"The bullet is still in my arm?" I ask, peering down with blurry, sleep-addled vision. I'm surprised I was only unconscious for the scant amount of time it took to get me home and in bed; I'm still wearing my dress, in fact. I can't see any discernable evidence to tell me whether or not the metal is inside the red wound, but I know Sebastian has sharper eyes than mine.

"Yes, my Lady, and it must come out before you can begin to heal and before infection sets in." Sebastian's red eyes flash dangerously. My heart races in fearful anticipation of the pain, but I nod anyway and steel myself. Sebastian hands me a white rag. "Bite down on this, Mistress. After I remove the bullet from your arm I must stitch up the open wound."

I cringe, biting my lip. "Are you sure that's necessary? I've never had high tolerance for pain," I fret, watching Sebastian grin darkly.

"For one who is able to deal pain out so easily, you claim not to be able to handle it?" The dark-haired demon shakes his head, smirking. "You handled the marking exceptionally well."

That doesn't help my confidence much, but I nod my head for him to proceed. It has to be done, that much I know, so I'll let him to what he needs to. Sebastian continues to wipe down the injury site, and the antiseptic is beginning to sting less and less. I don't want to watch what he does, but it is morbidly intriguing. He is gloveless, using two fingers to push the sides of the wound open and picking up something that resembles needle-nose pliers and positions them above the wound.

"Ready yourself, Mistress, for this may hurt a bit."

I place the rag in my mouth and close my teeth over it, nodding brusquely for him to go on. I squeak into the rag when his pliers descend into the injury, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. It only takes a second before the feeling is gone and a sharp _clink_ reaches my ears, telling me he's done with the first step. I risk another look to see Sebastian has brandished a curved needle and stiff thread, surprising me as to its origins. I don't question it, though, knowing anything I say will be just to stall him.

Sebastian holds my arm firmly down on the pillow and glances up at me once more. "I will try to be fast, my Lady, but this will be no easier to endure than the bullet removal."

"Just get it done," I mumble around the rag, turning my head away and closing my eyes. Sebastian chuckles and I feel him lean down – and then the pain comes. I grab a fistful of blankets and grind my teeth over the rag, refusing to vocalize in the slightest. The antiseptic hasn't done much to numb the pain. A stinging tug slips to the forefront of my attention, though it doesn't last long. Sebastian works quickly, snipping the thread and wiping down the site thoroughly before wrapping it tightly in white gauze to keep it protected from anything that would give me an infection.

"All finished, Mistress." The demon leans away and cleans up his mess, letting me sit up and examine the newly-dressed site. Even though I can't see the stitches I know they're clean and tight, perfectly orderly just like Sebastian. Despite the stinging, I feel much better than before. Sebastian hands me a teacup of purposely cooled tea and I gulp it down thirstily, feeling the energy spread through my veins.

"Thank you, Sebastian," I say, handing the empty teacup back. "I really appreciate it."

The demon's eyes flash violet for a millisecond. He leans forward and takes my face in his hands, running his fingers through my hair. "You had me worried, Mistress," he murmurs quietly, drawing close enough to where our foreheads touch. "Watching you get shot was more difficult than I ever imagined."

I smile abruptly, lifting my good arm to touch his elbow. "You shouldn't have worried," I chide him. "It's going to take more than a flesh wound to kill me."

Sebastian laughs softly, shaking his head. "Of that I have no doubt, my Lady."

I meet his eyes and am very surprised to read the concern left over in their wine-red depths. Seeing that makes me uneasy, so I close my eyes and tilt my head enough to meet his lips. Sebastian's mouth is gentle; perhaps he is afraid of hurting me or maybe he merely wants to take the kissing slow tonight. The demon places small pecks over my face; my closed eyelids, the bridge of my nose, over my eyebrows and down the side of my face. His hands stroke through my hair and massage my scalp, tempting me into more than I know I can handle.

I push him back with a groan. "No more," I breathe, pulling his hands from my hair. "I can't go there with my arm injury."

Sebastian smiles, but the barely-contained restraint is evident in his eyes. "I understand, my Lady. You need to rest. Let me help you from your dress and into your night clothes so you may get comfortable." Sebastian helps me needlessly to my feet and out of my dress and corset, letting his hands skim over my skin tantalizingly smooth.

"Sebastian," I frown, fighting a smile despite it.

"Please excuse me, Mistress, I cannot help myself." The demon smirks and retrieves my nightgown from the dresser, tugging it gently over my head and helping me feed my arm through the sleeve. I situate myself back in bed and Sebastian pulls the covers back around me with a knowing smirk, reading the agitation on my face with ease.

"You don't have to tuck me in," I swat his hands away. "I'm not helpless."

Sebastian chuckles and shakes his head, withdrawing. "As you wish, my Lady. If you should need anything from me tonight, do not hesitate to call on me. I will never be far from you."

My eyes lock onto Sebastian's, and I'm tempted to invite him into my bed to stay the night with me.

"Will you stay, if only for a while?" I can't deny myself the way his gloveless hands look so very enticing – the feeling of them running over my smooth skin is irresistible. Sebastian smiles and rejoins me, removing his tailcoat and shoes before sliding in bed next to me. I don't hesitate; I sink down in bed and pull him to me. The red-eyed demon blankets my body with his, pressing into my most tender of areas and making me breathe faster with each passing moment. His lips are soft and move with purpose, hands trapping my face. It's tough for me to use my injured arm so I try to tell myself not to, but it's a new thought.

I run my hand down Sebastian's chest, noticing only now that he's still wearing the ripped shirt from earlier. The demon's teeth catch my lower lip and I groan, arching up against him and enjoying the feeling.

"I will not be able to keep myself from you," Sebastian murmurs into my ear, his soft breath against my neck. "You will need to tell me when to stop, my Lady."

I push him back slightly, my face growing hot. "Stop," I say again, shaking my head. "It would hurt my arm too badly." Sebastian sits up and his eyes are wild, but he nods.

"Understandable, Mistress. Would you like me to leave?"

"No," I say, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down next to me. "Stay with me tonight. And when I'm healed, I'll make up for not being able to do anything now."

Sebastian's eyes burn, and he smiles suggestively, arranging himself at my side and pulling my blankets around us.

"Then sleep well, my Lady." Sebastian's arm curls around my body and pulls me close to his, closing his eyes. Even though I know he does not sleep, the sight of his closed eyes tires me as well as the stress from the day. Even though my arm throbs painfully and feels twenty degrees hotter than the rest of my body, sleep steals over me quickly enough.


	13. revelation, distressing

**A/N:** Hey guys, I have a little announcement. Starting this next week (or sooner), I may not update very frequently. I've picked up a night job in addition to the _two_ jobs I already have, so any free time will most likely be spent sleeping and eating like a fatty, haha. I'm going to be beat - not to mention one FUSSY lady! XP But the writer in me won't be able to keep away from the story for very long... AND THE PLUS SIDE IS I'LL BE MAKING SOME SERIOUS BANK! =D

**Warning:** Secks!

* * *

><p>Seeing as that damned Canterbury shot me, I can't exactly go after Brigs the next night like I had hoped. I refuse to let my injury get the better of me, though, so instead of staying bed-ridden like I'm sure Sebastian would have liked, I spend the next handful of days recuperating on my feet. I watch Sebastian when he prepares my meals, watch him from the window as he shakes snow off the trees and as he goes about his daily chores. They really aren't his responsibility, but he's taken to doing things like making my bed each morning and cleaning the rooms without my prompt. I really don't mind; it just means I don't have to do them.<p>

I'm still irritated with Sebastian for pulling the trigger for me. I _know_ I could do it on my own, but he just wouldn't let me for fear of my stupid injury. I'm determined to heal as quickly as possible and make up for being unable to kill Canterbury on my own when we finally reach Brigs.

I find ways to keep my mind off the pain, and soon it begins to fade. It helps when I go outside – the cold bitterness in the air feels wonderful on my hot skin, as does a handful of snow pressed directly to the injury site. Sebastian assumes a role of watchful persistence, careful to make sure I don't overdo it. The concern is unnecessary, but it still gives me a pleasant feeling to know he cares – even if it is minimal.

A few days have passed, and in order to keep Sebastian busy I give him orders to return to Driar's manor and scour the study in search of anything about the nameless woman. I can't very easily accompany him with my arm still in its present state, so I resign myself to the house while he is away. I wonder if anyone has noticed the bodies I've left in my wake of revenge-induced destruction – news of Dennings' death is already in the papers and rumors are flying. Some of them say he was targeted as a result of bad gambling habits, and others say it was merely a random act. Of course, I know better, and seeing an image of his body on the front page is _very_ satisfying.

It almost makes up for not getting to torture Canterbury.

On the day Sebastian is gone from sunup to sundown, my dresses from Madam Rouge arrive in the evening. They are individually wrapped and carefully sealed in a lacquer box; only the finest for delivery when it comes to the French dressmaker. I tip the delivery man a few shillings and close the door tightly behind him, bothered by the cold that leaks in around his portly frame, setting the box on the floor in the sitting room to open it eagerly. The blue Persian silk dress is first, and as I pull off the protective paper around it I gasp aloud.

The dress is absolutely _beautiful_, and it steals my breath away.

I get to my feet to let the dress fall to its complete length, unable to believe my eyes. I knew there was a reason Madam Rouge is the most sought-after dressmaker in all of England – the evidence is staring me directly in the face. This dress is long sleeved; I let Madam Rouge know I wanted one of them to be. The sleeves end a little bit above my wrists before filling out into tapered ruffles, falling in waves to my knees. The bodice is tight and molded exactly like a corset would be; fitted perfectly around my breasts and upper body before flaring out into folds of elegant silk and white lace down to the floor. The square neckline is lined with the same exquisite white lace, but sewn into the hem are fingernail-sized cut stones of butterscotch topaz – the real deal, if I know Madam Rouge. That surprises me and I see a note fastened to the inner lid of the lacquer box, but I decide it can wait. The mint green dress is patiently awaiting its unveiling.

The green dress is not a ball gown like the Persian silk is, but that does not mean it is any less extravagant. Sleeveless dresses are only now beginning to make an appearance in London thanks to the Parisians, and this one is reminiscent of Madam Rouge's home country. The skirts fall down to my feet as per usual, but they are not as full as most dresses the English ladies wear. The mint color shines with iridescent perfection, interrupted only by slants of inserted white. The sleeves are just stripes that go over my shoulders, covered in soft lace to keep from looking tasteless. Around the dipping, oval-shaped neckline is another surprise – rubies, the size of my smallest pinky nail.

I set this dress next to the cerulean silk one, suddenly so much more excited to unwrap the crimson one upon remembering that Sebastian chose the color. The paper is pushed away and the dress falls to its beautiful length, once more stealing my breath. The red of the dress is much more vibrant here in my home, picking up the colors of the crackling fireplace and displaying them along its entire length proudly. This dress is not a ball gown either, and I'm glad for it. Puffy hoop skirts would only detract from the dress' beauty. I can tell immediately that this dress is going to be tight around my upper body, with a dizzyingly long line of tiny buttons that fall from the back of the dress all the way to below my waist. The bodice is firm, molded to resemble a corset Madam Rouge had me try on for an example. I won't need to wear one with this dress; the bodice alone is a corset in itself, and the buttons along the back take the place of laces. I've never seen black lace before, so its presence surprises me. The rounded, square neckline is trimmed with it, but the lace dips down to a sharp 'v' and ends over my navel, and it is embedded with brilliant diamonds that shine proudly.

I know Madam Rouge gave me much more than I paid for, so I gently set this dress down next to the others and reach for her included note.

_Ma Petit Valentine – _

_ 'Pleasantly surprised' does not begin to cover the delight I received when you and your delicious consort came into my shop! I'm sure you have noticed the little extras I put into your dresses, and no doubt you are wondering why. I feel great sadness for your family's loss and only hope that the precious gems sewn into your dresses accurately portray my sympathy. When all others abandoned your family in fear of being targeted, I stood by your sides with no hesitation. You are an absolutely stunning woman and the valuable stones do nothing to outshine you – in fact, I know they will only increase your beauty. Wear these dresses proudly and know that you can always call on me should the need for another one arise… Just as long as you bring your devilishly handsome friend with you again! Whoever he is, I hope he takes excellent care of you. You deserve nothing but the best, ma chérie, and I hope to see you in the red dress soon!_

_With love – Madam Elle Rouge_

I almost cry – almost. I roll my eyes at her comments about Sebastian, feeling warmth upon seeing her use my childhood nickname. Written and always spoken in French, "my little valentine" was what she would always call me fondly whenever my mother brought me into her shop. I've no doubt that Sebastian would most likely refuse to set foot back in her shop if he read this note, so I grin to myself and remember to show it to him. It touches me that Madam Rouge added the precious stones into my dresses. It shows she cares – especially with her mention of standing at my family's side. The French woman had indeed remained faithful to the Augustine's, and I suspect it is her heritage that allowed her to do so. Every French woman I've ever met has always been headstrong and courageous; refusing to let something as small as serial killers affect their loyalty to friends and family.

I fold the note back up and bundle all the discarded paper, tossing it into the fire to burn. I want to try on my dresses, so I drape them carefully over my arm and move into my room to stand before the long mirror on the wall, carefully undressing myself and babying my arm. The blue and mint dresses I will be able to put on by myself, but the buttons on the crimson dress will require Sebastian's help and will therefore have to wait until he returns. Thankful I'd decided to go corset-less today; I step into the blue dress and zip it up, taking a deep breath before lifting my eyes to the mirror.

I gasp. My pale skin is creamy smooth paired with the cerulean, and it makes my dark brown hair look even more chocolately. My mostly hazel eyes look like hard emeralds, and I can just imagine my hair curled and piled on top of my head during an elegant waltz.

"My Lady?" Sebastian's voice inquires, sending a nervous jolt through my body. He knocks on my closed door, waits three polite seconds and enters. His red eyes zero instantly in on my body, beginning to burn.

"My dresses came," I tell him needlessly. Obviously the demon sees this and my stupid comment makes me blush slightly. I lift my arms, swishing my skirts and smiling. "What do you think?"

The demon says nothing; he comes completely into the room and closes the door behind him quietly, moving directly to my side. His gloved hands reach out deliberately slow, skimming over my arms carefully before brushing across my torso. No doubt his eyes scour my enhanced breasts in this corset-molded bodice, and I can imagine him drooling comically.

"Mistress…" he murmurs silkily, letting his wine-red eyes burn across my body. "You are ethereal."

The word has me crinkling my nose with humor, yet Sebastian is anything but joking. I can only stand completely still as his hands trace the contours of my body, locking eyes with me. He touches my marks gently, lining my jaw with white-gloved fingers and running through my hair and angling my face up to touch his lips to mine.

The reaction is a surprise, as is the ferocity in which he kisses me. After just a few seconds my lips are tender and certainly bruised, and I wouldn't be surprised if I'm missing most of my hair with the tightness of his grip on my roots. I lift my hands and push against his chest, shaking my head.

"You're too rough," I manage to say, trying to step away. The dark intent in his eyes is frightening me. Sebastian hesitates, clearly tossing about the idea of ignoring me completely, and finally releasing me to take a step back. The red-eyed demon rearranges his wild face into a mask of apologetic shame, offering me a small bow.

"I am sorry, my Lady," he begins, straightening up. "But in that dress you are irresistible."

I snort, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "I still have two more to try on," I tell him, moving to my bed where they wait. "So try and restrain yourself, would you?" The way Sebastian's eyes light up at the mention of the two other dresses has me laughing, working to unzip the dress with my good arm.

"Allow me to help you, Mistress." He is at my side in an instant, letting me lean on him when I step out of the cerulean blue Persian silk number. I pay the demon no mind, even when I _know_ he is letting his eyes run over my naked body, and pick up the mint dress to put on next. Sebastian takes the dress from me and holds it out for me to get in, zipping it up along the side. I pull at the skirt to adjust it before stepping back in front of the mirror, hearing Sebastian clear his throat mysteriously. The demon has _never_ done that before, and I have no explanation as to why until I see he's looked away with tight eyes.

The mint dress looks even better than the blue one, and I begin to understand his reaction was from seeing me in it. I've picked good colors, it seems, for the mint serves to smooth out my skin even better than the cerulean dress had done. The rubies are like brilliant spots of blood along my neckline, drawing attention to the pentagram on my chest. I reach up and run my fingers over the deceptively smooth skin, hearing Sebastian groan and seeing him turn away out of the corner of my eye. I look at him with a question in my eyes, but his back is to me, looking out the window.

"Is something wrong?" I ask, turning to face him.

"Seeing you touch my marks will be my undoing, Mistress," he admits, smiling almost sheepishly. "Especially in these new dresses of yours."

I arch one eyebrow, amused. "Well there's still one dress left… the red one you chose," I tell him, smirking when Sebastian turns to face me.

"Let's try that one now, my Lady."

I laugh, reading the wildness in his eyes and letting him unzip the mint dress for me to get out of it. His hands make a point to touch my skin as frequently as possible, and he takes his time buttoning up the crimson dress, leaning forward to kiss the back of my neck with each fastened button. I grip my hair, trying to stomp away the desire to forget the dress and push the demon onto the bed. But I know this dress will be worth it, so I silently will Sebastian to hurry in his task. He places his hands on my shoulders and turns me toward the mirror, smiling when my jaw drops at my own reflection. The crimson dress is absolutely _stunning_, if I'm allowed to say so myself. The black lace dipping down in the front makes my already tapered waist look even more slender and my arms look so finely shaped that I can hardly believe the woman in the mirror is me.

Sebastian curls his arms around my waist, burying his face in the crook of my neck. His lips tempt me; persistent and suggestive kisses trail like fire from the hollow below my ear to the joint of my shoulder. His fingers press into my abdomen impatiently, tapping my stomach and making me smile and shake my head.

"Take this dress off me, Sebastian." As much as I imagined my voice being firm and authoritative, it trembles with something I hope isn't uncertainty – but sounds a lot like it. The demon instantly obeys; his fingers flying over the buttons and letting the dress fall to the floor in a silken whoosh. He picks me up swiftly and I have to wrap my arms around his neck to keep from falling, and the motion pulls at my stitches painfully. I ignore it, though, because the dark-haired demon is kissing me with enough passion to wipe everything cleanly from my mind.

I tangle my pale fingers in his hair, hardly caring that the temperature in the room is a little too cold to be completely naked. Sebastian lays me on the bed, taking a moment to remove his gloves with a flourish and let his hands roam over my body. Those black nails are distracting; skimming over my curves, looking like black ink spots on pale skin. My heart pounds against my chest and he smirks at the sound, gently pressing his hand over the spot to feel my heartbeat.

"It has been close to a century since I've felt my own heart beat," he tells me in a low voice, meant only for my ears. "Yours is strikingly familiar."

"Don't all heartbeats sound the same?" I ask breathlessly, noticing how close his hand is to my breast.

Sebastian shakes his head without a word, leaning down to kiss the pentagram on my chest. His dark laughter against my skin is suggestive and I shiver. The now violet-eyed demon's mouth closes over my left nipple, making me inhale sharply. His tongue swirls over the little nub, making it harden with pleasure. I can't help but lift my leg and press it to his side, sliding it over his hip and thigh. The demon grasps my leg with one hand, pushing it forward so my knee is close to my face. In a fluid movement he places three kisses on my body, moving south before his tongue is instantly on me.

I moan abruptly and toss my head back; feeling the way Sebastian pushes my leg up even further. I grasp the sheets, twisting them in my hands almost desperately. I squirm under him until his free hand locks onto my hip, stilling me where I lie and increasing the speed of his unholy tongue. Black nails dig into my hip and thigh, betraying Sebastian's tepid loss of control. My back arches and I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood once again, licking it away before the demon can smell it. I don't need any more blood loss when I'm only now finally starting to feel better.

There is a moment of pause, making me right my head and look his way. Sebastian has stopped only to begin undressing himself – a task I would in delight in helping with. I beckon him to come toward me and sit up, removing his shirt so quickly that several buttons pop off. The demon laughs and tosses his shirt to the floor, letting me take off his pants. He's kicked off his shoes already, so there is no need to remove those, and Sebastian leans on one arm so I can pull his pants down off his legs. The demon's erection is tantalizing, so close to my face that I can feel the heat. I wonder if he wants me to suck it, but I begin to learn that he is too impatient to wait for that.

Sebastian's hands press me down and move to grab my hips, lifting them up towards him. He presses his groin against the space between my legs and it has me mewling, begging for him to push into me and take control. I watch when he grabs his cock and taps my opening with it, grinning darkly when I make an improper exclamation of delight. Before I grow too impatient, Sebastian angles himself perfectly and pushes in slowly, drawing a long moan from me that is echoed by the dark-haired demon. He lifts my legs and positions them on his shoulders, beginning to thrust with deliberate slowness. His hands grip my legs, black fingernails digging into my soft skin and sending zings of tolerable pain through me.

I've all but completely forgotten about my healing bullet wound now. The sound of our bodies slapping together is so pleasing; as is the way he grinds his hips into mine to get deeper.

"S-Sebas…tian…" I gasp, fisting my hand and biting down on it to muffle my cries of pleasure. "Just like that…" I circle my hips absently, opening my eyes to risk a look in his direction. Sebastian's head is tilted back and his lips are parted, breathing heavily. I can only see a sliver of those violet irises through half-lidded eyes until he lowers his head and meets my gaze. He brushes my legs off his shoulders, leaning over my damp body on his elbows to kiss my lips fervently. I pull my own legs up toward my body, locking my arms around them and dragging my nails down Sebastian's back. I know I won't last much longer, especially not when one of his hands has returned to my opening and is now stimulating the most sensitive place on my entire body. I feel my body begin to tighten; the hot coil of orgasm unwinding in a delicious rush, making me vocalize louder than before. Sebastian follows suit, grinding his hips into mine harshly when he comes. It takes a lazy minute before the demon rolls off me, trying to catch his breath just like I am.

If seeing me _wear_ a crimson dress gets this kind of reaction from him, what will seeing me kill in it do?

* * *

><p>"I'm angry with you, Sebastian." I tell him the next morning, taking a sip of freshly steeped Earl Grey. I'd just finished organizing the trunk, and seeing the pistol had reminded me that Canterbury hadn't died at my hand.<p>

The demon in question turns, raising one eyebrow curiously. "Why is that, Mistress?"

"You pulled the trigger and killed Canterbury," I remind him. "That's why I'm angry." The demon pauses in his cleaning, angling his body completely towards mine to give me his attention.

"I apologize, my Lady. I feared your blood loss was too weakening."

"I am not weak," I growl vehemently, seeing surprise flit across Sebastian's face. "I could have handled it on my own." Sebastian takes a seat at the table; sitting straight as always and making me feel like a slob for slouching. That only serves to irritate me more, so I push away from the table and stalk away into the sitting room, knowing the demon will follow. I curl up in the chair closest to the fire, picking up a book and flipping through the pages absently. Sebastian's red eyes are so bright I can see them from the corner of my eye as he enters the room, standing directly in front of me and dropping to one knee.

"Allow me to apologize for my disobedience," he places one hand over his breast, the other resting on my leg. "I acted without orders, my Lady, and should be reprimanded." I curl my lip with muted disgust; the look in Sebastian's eyes is full of mirth, and its clear he thinks this all a game.

"Get away from me," I tell him, closing my book with a loud snap. "Stop talking like that. It's not entertaining."

"I do not mean to entertain, Mistress. I am serious." A smile plays on the edges of Sebastian's mouth and I want to hit him, so I do. I swat his shoulders with the book and the demon lets his control slip, grinning abruptly.

"I said move!" I exclaim, tossing the book and butting my palms against his chest.

The demon's red eyes flash dangerously – have I made a mistake?

"That's it," he murmurs, leaning toward me to bite my earlobe. "Punish me."

"Sebastian!" I exclaim angrily, pushing at him. The strain of it makes my injured arm ache, but I toss that thought away. Sebastian's dark laughter in my ear has my blood boiling, and it pisses me off when his hands curl around my waist.

"I mean it, demon!" I warn him again, trying to weasel out of his grip. Sebastian leans back and I take the opportunity provided to try and jump away from his hands, but they grip me too tightly and I wind up losing my balance and toppling to the floor. The ground jolts my arm and I grit my teeth in pain, narrowing my eyes at the entertained demon. Sebastian holds me down, pinning my shoulders to the floor with a smile in his eyes. His black hair falls forward and partially obscured his face, but those red eyes are impossible to block.

I realize that I still have free movement of my legs, so I quickly lift my knee and dig it into his stomach, catching him off guard. Anger crosses Sebastian's face for literally half a second, before it is wiped away and replaced with the old expression.

"Get off of me!" I seethe through clenched teeth, thrashing on the ground to try and free myself. "What are you doing!" It doesn't really occur to me that I could order Sebastian off; instead I struggle until my jabbing knee seems to annoy the demon. He removes his hands from my shoulder and I waste no time, scrambling to my feet only to have them snagged by Sebastian again. I trip, slamming onto the ground. But instead of crying out with the pain of my chin becoming closely accustomed to the hardwood, I roll quickly onto my back and jerk my ankle from his grasp, using it to slam my foot into his shoulder. The red-eyed demon grins, snatching my foot and holding it in an iron-strong grip.

"Sebastian, I'm serious," I pant with exertion, feeling something warm and wet trickle down my injured arm. "Great, you made me rip a stitch! You're going to pay, demon!" I kick my legs, fighting for control and hearing Sebastian laugh.

"That's right, my Lady," he praises. "Fight me. Show me your strength. Show me your blood lust." The demon releases my legs and blankets my body with his, grinding his hips into mine to keep me immobile. His hair falls into my face as he goes for my earlobe, drawing his tongue along the shell of my ear.

"Punish me."

I growl, shying away from the wetness his tongue brings and curling my fingers in his hair, yanking harshly on the black locks. Sebastian allows his head to be wrenched back, and his expression is alight with both entertainment and pain. It's clear he's enjoying himself too much for me to be able to comprehend.

"If I punish you, will you get the hell off me?"

"As you wish, Mistress."

Truth is, I have no clue how to go about punishing the demon. But he seems intent on receiving it, so I think fast. I yank his hair again, seeing ultraviolet swirl in his eyes. The pentagrams push forward, glowing white and I look quickly away, put off by the sight. I free his hair from my grip and dig my hands into his chest, using my fingers like claws to cause him pain. The dark-haired demon grins and rolls off me, quickly snagging my waist with his hands to pull me atop him.

"Are we done yet?" I ask in annoyance, lifting my hand to cup my injury. "My stitches are bleeding."

"I do not think the Mistress knows how to punish," he teases me, eyes flashing. "She needs a lesson."

"I'll teach you what it feels like to have my knife against your throat," I counter back, seeing how his eyes warm to the idea. Could it be possible Sebastian wants my blade biting into his skin? Instead of wasting time with that notion, I narrow my eyes and slap him across the face, watching his eyes close.

"Very good, my Lady," he says to me evenly. Sebastian is back to normal, it seems, for he gently removes me from his waist and gets both of us to our feet. "When I disobey you again, please do not hesitate to punish me."

I take a step back, cradling my arm and raising my eyebrow. "Let's not make you going against rules a habit, yes?"

Sebastian bends down on one knee, dipping his head with closed eyes. His right hand covers his left breast and I try not to roll my eyes when he responds: "Yes, my Lady."

I leave Sebastian in the sitting room to stoke the dying fire, hearing the crackle and pop of new, fresh logs as they're tossed into the flames. My heart is still racing from Sebastian's minute wrestling match and his outlandish request, and my intent is to distance myself from the demon before he can insist upon something even more embarrassing. I dress warmly to head outside, deciding to pay a visit to the only horse I've ever owned. The snow is hard and crunchy and only one set of tracks lead to the one-stall barn a few dozen yards away from my home, nestled in amongst snow-laden trees. It's still cold, but not cold enough to warrant great plumes of frosty breath.

Sebastian had assumed the role of caretaker for the animal, so it's not surprising to see the gelding bundled in a thick horse blanket. I didn't care to name him when I'd purchased him a few days after buying my carriage, but the white star high up on his forehead inspired me to call him just that – Star. He whickers warmly at me when I push the heavy barn doors open and come inside, draping his head over the half-door to his stall. I pause to grab a brush from on top of a bale of sweet-smelling alfalfa, plucking a handful from it before I come to stand in front of Star's stall. The gelding takes the alfalfa from my hand; soft, velvety lips brushing over my palm and bringing a smile to my face. I run the soft-bristled brush over his chestnut face, scanning over his muscular body to check for anything that could be wrong.

Star's dark brown eyes close and he leans into my touch, telling me to push the brush down a little harder. There is hardly any dirt that drifts from his coat; evidence of Sebastian's excellent care in my place. I pat his warm neck firmly, knowing how the gelding appreciates a solid touch, and ruffle his mane of coarse brown hair. My mind wanders while I lavish attention on the animal – what will death be like? Certainly I have delivered it a few times and thought no more about it, but what is death _actually_ like? I glance down at my hands; they don't look like they belong to a murderer.

The gelding doesn't seem to sense anything different about me; he rumbles in his chest when I quit stroking his shoulder. I wonder if it will hurt very badly when Sebastian kills me. Does a person feel their soul leave the body, if they aren't dead before it happens? I suppose I could ask Sebastian these questions, but I'm content with not knowing for the time being. I don't like the idea of dying – I don't feel like my time alive should be up just yet. But I've dug my own grave, so to speak, and I'll just have to resign myself to the fact that my twenty-two years will come to an end, very shortly.

I let myself in Star's stall, taking the brush with me and unhook the cold clasps that keep his blanket securely over his body. The gelding twitches his skin and I can see him shiver; his body heat rises like a curtain and washes over me. I brush over his winter-long coat, loosening a fair amount of dead hair and hardly caring if it clings to the black fur of my mother's jacket. The chestnut horse bends his neck to turn and look at me, watching my progress with curious eyes. No doubt he's surprised to see me here in Sebastian's place, but then again, he's just a horse. I've never had a great passion for animals; they can be companions and burdens all at once. Surely I care for Star, but his truthfully nameless state shows just how far the extent of my care stretches.

Star stiffens under my touch, and I don't understand why until I notice Sebastian out of the corner of my eye.

"Ah, my Lady. I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten about owning a horse entirely." His voice is even and measured – back to his normal self. Humor lights his eyes, and I shake my head.

"Very funny," I comment, bending to pull Star's blanket from off the ground and fasten it around him. "Is there something you needed, Sebastian?"

The demon inclines his head, blinking slowly. "Detective Arnold Chaucer is here to see you, Mistress."

I raise my eyebrow, surprised. "He is?" I leave Star's stall, looking out the barn doors. "What does he want?"

"I believe he wishes to speak with you about the murders," the demon tells me. "But he is not alone."

Sudden panic flares inside me – does Detective Chaucer know it was me? Perhaps Sebastian sees the panic, for he extends an arm and places it over the small of my back.

"Rest assured, my Lady. The detective does not know it was you. It is highly unlikely he even suspects your involvement." Even over my heavy jacket, Sebastian's hand is hot. His face bears no mark of my ever having slapped him, and his black hair and clothes are as unruffled as ever. The demon steers me in the direction of the barn doors and waiting cold, speaking once more.

"I will inform your guests that you must freshen up before meeting them in the sitting room for tea and an afternoon snack," he says, carefully guiding me over the path he's somehow cleared while I was in the barn. "I am sure you would like to change and compose yourself before meeting the detective."

"I need to change into a dress that will hide my marks," I agree, nodding. The snow of the fresh path is compacted and very hard; easy to navigate even with the clumsiest feet.

"I have lain out a dress for you that will be easy to put on without any assistance, Mistress. I must tend to the detective and his guest in your absence."

The house is blessedly warm inside, and I can hear two male voices in the sitting room. I make an appearance, noticing that Detective Chaucer has made himself right at home – lounging comfortably on the two-cushion divan close to the fire. His friend, however, remains standing with his hands behind his back, still wearing his overcoat and hat and looking rather professionally put-out to be there.

"Please excuse my tardiness," I say upon entering the room, offering the two gentlemen what I hope to be an apologetic smile. "I was tending to my horse and did not expect company."

"Oh, not at all! We are the ones who should apologize, for dropping in on you so unannounced." Detective Chaucer gets to his feet and envelopes me in an unexpected hug, catching me off-guard. Behind me, Sebastian hums quietly with amusement and I see the detective's companion study me with interest.

"Valentina, this is my nephew, Byron Chaucer. He is an amateur detective I have decided to take under my wing before I make my retirement official. Byron, Valentina Augustine."

I clasp hands with the stoic man, taking note of his firm handshake and tight smile.

"I must excuse myself for a few moments to change," I inform them, taking steps toward the back of the house. "But Sebastian will ensure your total comfort in my absence." The two men nod their heads and I turn to leave, hearing Sebastian's smooth voice ask the men if they would prefer any sugar in their tea. I close myself in my bedroom and remove my coat, letting it fall to the floor. I'm a little nervous about the detective's visit and the meaning behind it, but push those thoughts to the back of my mind. The dress waiting on my bed is a casual day dress, and I recognize it as the one I'd worn when I welcomed the detective into my home the first time. It is easy to put on, and I spend a few minutes arranging my hair to look a little less rumpled.

When I return to the sitting room, both men have found seats and are sipping from polished teacups, sharing a story about heavy snow and weak rooftops. Detective Chaucer's nephew has finally shed his jacket and coat and looks a little more comfortable, but I still notice the way his eyes flick toward the front door when he's certain no one is looking.

"All right, gentlemen," I make my presence known, taking a seat in the armchair. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" Sebastian pours me a cup of dark tea and stirs in a teaspoon of sugar before handing me the cup, taking his usual stance behind me.

"This is a professional visit, I'm afraid. I didn't drop by merely to catch up, although the idea does sound tempting!" The older detective laughs and I smile politely, noticing the way his nephew does not react at all.

"And certainly not to introduce me to your nephew, I imagine," Byron looks my way with an almost embarrassed smile, letting his eyes wander over my body somewhat uncomfortably.

I hear Sebastian take an unassuming step forward and it brings a smile to my lips.

"No, no, although I am pleased to finally introduce the two of you. Byron is around your age and still unwed… Perhaps it is my secret intention to play match-maker!" The detective laughs jovially when I choke on my tea, feeling it dribble down my chin and quickly ducking my head before either of them can see. Sebastian drifts around my chair and offers me a handkerchief to wipe my face, while Byron fixes the detective with a long look.

"Uncle, please," he shakes his head, suddenly finding the contents of his teacup fascinating. "This is supposed to be a professional visit."

Detective Chaucer composes himself, sobering quickly and setting his teacup down on its saucer on the table. He leans back and folds his hands with a sigh, settling his watery eyes on me.

"Absolutely right. I'm afraid I have some unhappy news for you, Valentina," he begins solemnly, inspiring my heart to pick up pace nervously. "As you well know, your case is years old. Eight years old, to be precise, and most of the other men at Scotland Yard have abandoned any hope of ever solving it, except for myself, of course. It has been quite some time since any discernable shred of usable evidence has been found up until a day ago, when my nephew and several of his accomplices uncovered something I think will be very beneficial to you." Detective Chaucer sends a pointed look to Byron, silently encouraging his nephew to pick up where he left off.

"Down in the industrial district of London, on the banks of the Thames are several identical warehouses that we believed to be abandoned for years now. Just yesterday we received an anonymous phone call suggesting we search the warehouses regarding 'London's August Valentine', and I left immediately to investigate. My uncle has spent many months filling me in on all the details of your case and after a few minutes I deduced that the anonymous caller was referring to you.

"I set out with a small group of men to search the warehouses and while going through the third building, I discovered innumerable photographs, lists and information all about you, Valentina."

I don't speak right away, even though I can tell both of the men are waiting for me to say something. Instead, I risk a glance up at Sebastian. His eyes are already on mine, shimmering faintly and ready to give over to ultraviolet. The demon's lips are pursed in a tight line and he gives me an almost imperceptible nod of the head, answering my silent question.

"Photographs of what? My family?"

Byron nods solemnly.

"And the lists? What are they of?"

"At first glance they appeared to be nothing more than lists of names. But after returning to headquarters and pulling up your extensive file, I came to realize they were lists of everyone you have ever known – and the majority of those names were crossed off."

"Targets eliminated," I murmur, looking down into my tea. "Victim lists."

"Precisely," Detective Chaucer interjects, reaching for his own teacup. "There were only three names that have yet to be crossed off: Charlotte Davies, Clara Bea and Elle Rouge."

I perk at the mention of Madam Rouge's name, meeting Detective Chaucer's eyes. "Elle Rouge – keep her safe. I care not about the others. But you must keep Madam Rouge from making the victim list." My request is made in vain, though, for I know there will be no way Madam Rouge will die. With only one killer left and a mysterious woman who seems to only work behind the scenes, the chances of the dressmaker dying are slim to none.

Byron's eyebrows rise. "You are particularly close to her?"

"She is the only woman left who is close to family," I tell him, feeling the conviction in my words. "Your men will keep her safe." It is pointless to ask the detectives to do these things for me, but I don't care. They are obviously clueless about what I've been doing to entertain myself over the past few days, and keeping it that way is at the top of _my_ list. I'd hate to be incarcerated so close to achieving my goal.

"No harm will come to her, Valentina, don't worry." Detective Chaucer offers me a grandfatherly smile. "Might I get a refill?" He holds his teacup up and Sebastian moves forward instantly. I watch the demon refill the detective's teacup with smooth grace, setting the teapot down once he's finished. I hadn't noticed the silver tray of small, square-shaped sandwiches and my mouth waters at the sight of them. Seeming to read my mind once more, Sebastian places two in a napkin and brings them to me. I set my teacup down on the side-table next to my armchair and devour them quickly, surprised to discover they are actually tiny cakes with a thick fruit paste filling.

"And this is everything behind the meaning to your visit?" I don't mean to sound short with my words, and it seems to take Byron off-guard.

"Well, yes," he answers uncertainly. "We thought this information was something you'd like to know."

"Oh, it is, believe me!" I wave my hand quickly, attempting to dismiss any doubts in Byron's mind. "I merely wanted to know. You wouldn't happen to have the list with you?" The curiosity to see the listed names is like a strong fire raging through my veins, and I only barely manage to keep it bottled up. The two detectives are completely unaware of what they've just done – telling me of the warehouses will almost certainly guarantee finding the woman so I can kill her.

"Unfortunately they are safely locked inside my office," Detective Chaucer tells me. "We haven't finished with the list yet." I try not to let my disappointment show, and shrug my shoulders noncommittally. "On another note, would you happen to know a Carter Dennings? Or perhaps an Ernest Driar?"

My blood runs cold and I instantly freeze.

"The names aren't familiar," I find myself saying through tight lips. "Why do you ask?"

"New bodies," Byron says. "They weren't on the list, but we couldn't be sure if they were related to you or not."

"Carter Dennings is a familiar name," Sebastian's voice startles me. The demon has been so quiet that I'd almost forgotten he was behind me. "He was in the paper, was he not?"

Detective Chaucer and Byron both look a little surprised that Sebastian has spoken, but they nod.

"Yes, that's right," Byron supplies. "The state of his body is very similar to that of Ernest Driar. Not identical, but both of their foreheads bore a number. We think there may be other bodies to find that are in the same state."

I desperately try to hide my triumphant grin with a sneeze so I can shield my mouth with the crook of my arm. Finally having my work recognized is such an unbelievable feeling!

Sebastian makes a disapproving noise. "A shame." His response makes me want to laugh, but I have to quickly compose myself as not to tip off either detective.

"No, the names are not affiliated with me," I tell them, crumpling my napkin and tossing it into the hungry fire. "You think there may be more bodies?"

Detective Chaucer nods, reaching for a square cake. "That's right. Ernest Driar's forehead displayed the number two, written in his own blood. Carter Dennings' forehead held the number three, also in his blood. These findings have the boys at the Yard all up in arms, because of the similarity and the state of the bodies."

A feeling of glee quickly washes over me. "What did the bodies look like?"

Byron frowns, seeming unsure if he should share the information with me. "Both were pretty severely ravaged," he says, moving around in his seat to get comfortable. "Carter Dennings was cut up very badly, and I feel terrible for his wife and children who found him. Ernest Driar had a severe burn on the side of his neck, as well as a gunshot wound to the forehead. It so happens that all of his manor staff were found dead as well, with snapped necks."

Sebastian departs from the room, taking the near-empty teapot with him. I happen to catch a glimpse of violet eyes before he goes, so I assume that's the reason he's leaving.

"What of the similarities?" I'm dying to hear the detectives tell me all about my own handiwork – the feeling is second to none.

"Other than the number on the forehead, both bodies were restrained with rope, but in different positions; Driar was bound to a chair and Dennings tied up on the floor. Also, their eyes were eerie – it looked as though the irises are missing. There was no color in either of their eyes."

"No color?" I know exactly what caused the colorless state, but I'm too intent on playing the 'curious, dumbfounded' card.

"It reminds of your father's eyes," Detective Chaucer says suddenly, and my head slowly turns in his direction.

"What?" Sebastian chooses that moment to return, filling each man's teacup and giving me a deliberate look. I feel my blood chill once more and dread settles in the pit of my stomach for what I'm about to hear.

"His eyes were colorless, just like the new bodies," Detective Chaucer elaborates. "At first we though your father's eyes had just rolled into the back of his head. But after the autopsy we discovered that they were completely missing the irises."

My vision blurs dangerously, and if I had been standing I would have fallen to the ground. If Detective Chaucer is saying what I think he is, then he's unknowingly implying that a demon was directly involved with my father's death.

"I see," I manage to mumble, looking down at my lap. I see Sebastian straighten up and set the teapot on the silver tray, coming to my side.

"My Lady, are you feeling well?" He brushes hair from my face, playing the tender butler card, and both Byron and Detective Chaucer look instantly concerned.

"You should have never shared anything with her, Uncle!" Byron gets to his feet and comes to my side, boldly feeling my forehead with the back of his hand. "You're clammy," he says to me, looking at Sebastian. "Perhaps you ought to get her to bed. I think she may be ill."

"My Lady has never been one to handle violence very well," the demon lies smoothly. "I'm very sorry, gentlemen, but I will have to escort you out. I must see that my Lady is taken care of."

"Not a problem at all, sir," Byron stands and fetches his coat, handing his uncle's to him once he meets him near the door. "Make sure Valentina knows we are terribly sorry for having ailed her so, and that her hospitality for such an unannounced visit is very much appreciated. Uncle, we should go."

I can hear the men donning their coats but don't lift my head, having decided to play sick to get them to leave.

"I will ensure she knows. Please take care in the weather, gentleman, and I bid you a safe passage." Footsteps reach my ears, as well as the door closing and I'm sure it's just Sebastian and I in the room. I lift my head and drop it back, staring at the ceiling.

"My Lady, _are_ you ill?" Sebastian takes my hands after kneeling before me, studying my face with concern. I return my head to a normal position and stare at his nose instead of those piercing eyes, unwilling for him to see the truth there.

"I think so," I answer falsely, taking a deep breath. "I think I'd like to go lie down." Even though I know I can walk on my own, Sebastian lifts me into his arms and carries me bridal style down the hall, into my bedroom. He holds me easily with one arm, pulling the covers back and setting me gently down.

"Would you like me to remove your dress and corset, Mistress? It will make you more comfortable."

I'm about to shake my head no, but find myself nodding instead. Sebastian is fast; unbuttoning the day dress and swiftly loosening the laces to my corset. He finds my nightgown from the dresser and pulls it over my head, letting me lie back in bed and pulling the covers around my body.

"Is there anything you would like from me?"

I hear the barely-concealed curiosity in his voice – no doubt he's wondering what could possibly be bothering me so much. I shake my head no.

"Very well, my Lady. I will leave you in privacy, then. If you should want anything you only need to say my name." I turn away from the confused demon, feeling my eyes water. When the bedroom door closes and separates the two of us I let the tears spill over with my recently gained knowledge.

My father's soul was devoured by a demon.


	14. proposal, tempting

**A/N:** Thanks to the readers who congratulated and wished me luck on the new job! Last night I worked 10pm to 7am, so you can bet I was tired when I went to my other job at 9am to 5pm... Oh well! I'm bringing home the bacon, baby. =) Plus, I had this little beauty waiting on my computer for me already! LOL. Anyways, as always I hope everyone enjoys the latest chapter, and reviews are always welcomed! P.S. - I love writing from Sebastian's point of view. That is all. =D

**Warning:** XXX!

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><p>I can't stay in bed for long.<p>

When the sun has set, I push back the covers and search for Sebastian, intent on getting answers. I find him in the kitchen, finishing the cleaning from my two visitors. His back is to me, but I know he knows I'm there. I take a seat at the table and try not to let my emotions jumble the carefully cultivated list I've got waiting in my mind, content with watching him finish his chores first.

When the red-eyed demon turns and sits languidly at the table, there is still concern in his eyes.

"I'm _fine_," I say immediately, when he opens his mouth in preparation to speak.

Sebastian smiles, shaking his head. "I was going to ask if you were hungry, my Lady, but that is good to know all the same."

I bite back a snarky comment, trying to keep my serious mood composed. "I am, actually." Sebastian rises and moves to the icebox, pulling out a plate of sliced meat. He takes only a few minutes to prepare a cold meal for me; sliced roast garnished in a mango salsa with freshly buttered bread as a side. The demon knows my distaste for fancy, elaborate meals, and I appreciate the simplicity this one has. Sebastian pours me a glass of wine and returns to the table, intending to listen to what he can tell I want to say.

"I have a lot to ask you," I finally say around a mouthful of food. Sebastian smiles patiently, handing me a cloth napkin. "I have a mental list."

This makes the demon laugh and he shakes his head. "Ask and you shall find an answer, Mistress."

I swallow thoroughly, making sure my mouth is empty before I speak. The first question is the heaviest; the one pressing down most on my heart. It is the question I'm almost too afraid to ask, and the one I'm the most desperate for an answer to.

"Was my father's soul eaten by a demon?" I blurt suddenly, almost embarrassed.

"I do not know, my Lady. I have only seen a grainy photograph of him before."

That is not the answer I want, and I sigh. "You heard Detective Chaucer," I add. "He said my father's eyes were colorless. Does that mean his soul was taken, or could it be something else?" I know the answer, but it does not make hearing Sebastian say it any easier to hear.

"It is very likely that is the case, my Lady. I cannot think of anything else that would render his eyes to the state the detective described."

The crushing sadness that washes over me is so complete that the breath flees from my lungs for a brisk moment. I'm sure Sebastian senses my emotions, but he does not say a word. Merely, his eyes become an intense red that I can see, even while staring at my plate. I've momentarily forgotten my other questions, and Sebastian seems content to let me sit and try to compose myself for a few minutes. I look up finally and drain my wine glass – that earns a smirk from the dark-haired demon.

"Then the probability of a demon being involved in all of this is pretty high, right?"

"I would say so, Mistress. A demon will not take the soul from a dead body he happens to stumble upon – there is no way for him to for the soul will already be gone. We cannot freely take souls unless we're under order; otherwise there has to be a contract involved."

I feel my heartbeat accelerate and Sebastian hears it. My blood goes cold and I fear I might faint. "So does that mean my father was involved with a demon?"

Sebastian does not answer, and that's all the response I need. I lay my head on my arms, resting it on the table, and try to take deep breaths.

"My Lady?" Sebastian comes to my side and his hands touch my back. I shy violently away from him, because I've just realized something.

"You're the reason my father is dead," I whisper, staring with accusatory eyes. "Your kind. Does that mean a demon is responsible for _all _of this?" Sebastian makes to touch me again, and I jump from my seat. "Don't touch me! Your kind is the reason I've suffered for so many years!" Angry tears drip from my eyes, and Sebastian's face is impassive and hard.

"What did you expect, my Lady? They say contracts run in the family, and this certainly seems to be the case with yours."

"Did you know?"

Sebastian shakes his head. "I do not presume to meddle in the affairs of other demons, especially those that are below me. It is possible you do not know this, Mistress, but I am very powerful - one of the strongest of my kind. I am not the demon who is tempted by petty tasks, nor am I the one attracted to weak spirits. Only the wickedest of souls can get my attention, and yours, my Lady, is one that has me baited on a hook." Sebastian rises, eyes flashing. "And as such, I do not pay attention to much else. I have no knowledge of the demon that may or may not have been in contract with your father, Mistress."

Sebastian's long answer satisfies me, but it does nothing to quell the anger at my newfound knowledge. I grit my teeth and ball my fists together, sending a heated glance out the window. I'm sure if the intensity of my gaze were any stronger it would melt the snow outside. The sudden thought of becoming a demon to eliminate the one who quite possibly orchestrated the torture inflicted upon my life strikes and catches me off-guard, and that's when Sebastian acts again.

The dark-haired demon takes me in a hard embrace, pinning my body to his with one arm and using his other to hold my face still. I squirm and struggle in his grasp, but Sebastian's strength is absolute and I get nowhere fast.

"Let me go!" I beat my fist on his chest, but it only makes him smirk.

"Listen to me, my Lady. There is only so much I can do for you – and the rest you must do on your own. But I can offer you something no mortal has ever heard me speak of – the opportunity to become something like myself."

I tilt my head back to create some space between our faces and try to read the expression in Sebastian's eyes. "I swear you can read minds," I accuse, seeing humor flit across his face.

"I am so in tune with you, Mistress, that I can often _sense_ your thoughts – but not read them."

"To be like you?" I echo, quirking an eyebrow. "That isn't possible." But even as I say it, I wonder if it _is_ possible. To become a demon must be the greatest, most abhorred sin of them all; even greater than entering into a contract with one.

"And if there was? What would you say?"

I struggle against Sebastian's hold once more, but he lets me go this time. I collapse into my chair and give him a heated glare, trying to chase away the goosebumps that now decorate my skin.

"I'd say you were insane."

Disappointment flutters through the dark-haired demon's eyes, but only for a millisecond. He drops to his knees once more, placing his hands on my thighs and leaning in close to me, ghosting his lips over my skin. My back is pressed flush to the chair, so I couldn't move away even if I wanted to. My heart is racing nervously and I'm unsure of Sebastian's intentions.

"You could be the most beautiful creature to walk the earth, my Lady." His voice is but a murmur on my temple, and his breath tickles my hair. "Wicked lovely; a walking rendition of divine death."

I'm not sure what reaction Sebastian wants from me with his words, but I can't deny they're beginning to entice me. Of course, I'm in no position to make a decision just now… but I'll resign myself to the affection the red-eyed demon is giving me. I wind my arms around his neck and Sebastian seems to think that a green light; his hands tighten on my legs, disappearing under my nightgown to stroke bare flesh. His mouth moves to mine and is urgent and demanding – his teeth ravage my lower lip with abandon, tongue toying with mine.

All of this catches me so off-guard that I whimper in surprise, balling my hands into pitiful fists. It reminds me just how powerful Sebastian truly is – it's taken destroyed doors and bitten lips to bring me to this conclusion, and I push my fists against his chest to get him to back away.

"I can't." I offer him no further explanation and avert my eyes, successfully avoiding a loaded red gaze. My emotions are running high and I have no room for desire to be thrown into the mix, especially not after knowing a demon just like Sebastian was directly involved in my father's death. Sebastian stands and takes a careful step back, and I can feel his calculating eyes on me.

"My Lady, what ails you? Surely you are not truly sick," he muses, folding his arms behind his back.

I swallow, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. "No," I agree, "I'm not sick…" Sebastian can tell something else is on my mind, what with my trailing sentence, but he doesn't pry. He knows I'll share with him if I so desire, and the demon knows better that to get me to talk if I don't want to. Unspoken tension flows between us, and I know the sooner I speak up the quicker it will vanish, so I lift my head to study a shining button on his tailcoat.

"I'm a little uneasy," I admit. "I'll be honest. Obviously I know what will happen to me when my contract runs out, but knowing it happened to my father is difficult for me. Knowing the man I looked up to most was involved with a demon is difficult to find out."

"I know my Mistress is bothered by this revelation, but you must realize several things if you are to fully understand. What your father did was undoubtedly for the good of your family, although in the end he suffered a terrible fate. A man with three daughters and a wife would not willingly sign his soul over to a minion of hell if it were not something important. And not all demons are alike, Mistress. Certainly we are all after souls to claim, but there are some who search for more. Lasting relationships are impossible to come by when you are forever transient. Perhaps all of this has served a greater purpose?"

"I can't imagine something so important that my father would damn himself," I growl, balling my fists up against my thighs.

"Can't you?" Sebastian's voice is gentle, and I am reminded of a few things. The Augustine family came by their wealth from one source – stocks and bonds. My father was head of a company started by _his_ father, and after my grandfather retired it was my father who was set to take over. And he did, but not before making several enemies in the process. A very influential man my father was, and it seemed he could win just about anyone over with his charm and intelligence. But a few years before I turned twelve a serious tragedy struck my grandfather's business and the threat of bankruptcy was very real.

And it seemed very strange that literally overnight, the tables turned and our fortunes improved.

All of this comes to me in a strong wave and something clicks – it must have been a demon. I know that almost anything is possible for a demon under contract, so wouldn't boosting the success of my grandfather's company fall into that category?

"The demon helped him," I breathe, feeling the rightness of my words. I can remember my father leaving our home at odd hours in the night; acting secretive and seeming to hide things from my mother. "It was the demon all along."

"And the debt was paid, my Lady. Albeit in a gruesome way."

"But that doesn't explain the five killers," I point out. "It doesn't explain their purpose."

"Perhaps your father's demon was not as obliging as he first thought. Perhaps he made an enemy of the contracted demon, and he or she decided to exact their own brand of revenge. It is not impossible for such things to happen, Mistress."

"But why?"

Sebastian leans against the counter, exhuming an air of dignity as he does so. His blood-red eyes look very far away and I wonder if _he_ is remembering something. "Even while under contract, a demon still has his free will. Although we cannot refuse an order, we _can_ act upon our own whims unless specifically ordered not to do so. My thought, Mistress, is that your father's demon grew to harbor a personal vendetta against him; perhaps through misused authority while still under contract."

I lift my eyebrow in confusion. "How is that possible? My father's demon shouldn't have been able to do that. My father was a good man!"

"Ah, but how much of your father's business were you involved in?"

"Little to none," I admit almost shamefully. "Stocks aren't exactly interesting to a young girl."

"Stocks, you say?" A peculiar smile crosses Sebastian's face. "The career where enemies are made just as quickly as money. It is a lucrative business, stocks. I wonder if your father got on the wrong side of his demon because of it? Money is of value to some demons, but not all, and if the one who served your father was interested in it then it certainly wouldn't be too hard for him to make another enemy. I do not doubt that your father was unwilling to share any of his newfound success with the creature that made it possible."

Sebastian's words make sense – my father was always tight with his earned money, especially when I turned fourteen. I wonder if that could have been the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak, in his relationship with the demon. It isn't impossible, but I'm still reluctant to admit the demon's part in my father's life. It seems odd that my mother, sisters and I could have not suspected a thing when somewhere on my father's skin was the hidden mark of his demon.

"Does a demon mark stay on the skin after death?"

"No, my Lady. The instant the contract is fulfilled and the soul is taken, the mark vanishes without a trace."

Sebastian's answer soothes me, just a little. It's comforting to know the coroners who discovered my father's colorless eyes did not also discover an unexplained mark… other than the ones physically carved into his skin. I think of my own marks and my hands drift up to touch them; sliding my fingers under the collar of my nightgown and stroking the perfectly smooth skin. If I could not see them in a mirror I wouldn't be able to tell they were there at all.

The demon's eyes watch me carefully, possibly deciding if he's told me too much. While it can't be denied that my day has been trying, I'm feeling one hundred percent better now. In fact, I want to know more, but Sebastian has answered most of my questions without my ever having to ask them. I let silence reign between us for a few long minutes, wracking my brain for things I'd like to know.

"What will happen to my body after?" I know I don't have to elaborate to Sebastian on exactly what I mean.

"I will ensure your body is buried in the cemetery alongside your family and their memorials, my Lady."

"Are you required to do that?"

Sebastian smiles, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "No, Mistress. It is something I do only for the mortals I favor the most. Not many have had that privilege."

Even though I still know I'm going to hell, his reply takes a huge amount of weight off my shoulders. I sigh with satisfaction, knowing my _body_ will spend eternity next to my family while my soul rots someplace I can't be certain of.

"What will happen to my soul? If you devour it, does it go to hell?"

Sebastian does not answer right away – he's mentally deliberating whether to tell me anything, that much is obvious.

"I want you to tell me, Sebastian. Answer any questions I give you – that is an order."

The dark-haired demon looks a little put-out, but since I've ordered him there isn't much he can do.

"Most of your soul will become a part of me, Mistress. Anything else is banished to hell for an eternity of suffering and torment."

Although I know his answer should bother me; it doesn't. Part of it rubs me the wrong way, but what he says isn't hard to hear. It's something I've wanted to get an answer to for some time now, and having one makes me feel a little better. That probably speaks leagues to my sanity, but I long ago abandoned any hope of being sane when I traveled to Paris for the demon masquerade. I've lost track of time since then – how long has it been? Days, weeks, months?

I glance up and notice how distant Sebastian looks; his gaze his rooted outside on the glittering snow and mental distraction is written plainly on his face.

"What are you thinking of? You seem distracted, Sebastian."

The dark-haired demon looks to me, smiling. "I was merely thinking of the offer I proposed to you earlier, Mistress, and how you quickly turned it down."

"The offer?" I echo, confused. It takes me a moment to remember, and when I do a flood of unexpected nerves flow through my veins. Sebastian offered to make me into a demon – a creature of hell, just like him. The idea is still enticing; unlimited strength, snakelike cunning and beauty… otherworldly beauty. "I wasn't sure if it was possible," I tell him. "I thought you were just leading me on."

Sebastian comes close to me again, dropping once more to his knees. "But it _is_ possible, my Lady. How do you think my kind came to be?"

"A demon Adam and Eve?" I joke weakly, beginning to consider his prospect more and more. "Aren't you created in hell?"

Sebastian shrugs one shoulder, faintly amused. "I know not, my Lady. But I do know that if I had died in 60 B.C. like I was meant to, I would not have become what I am today. I would not be your demon consort, and you would not be damned."

"60 B.C.?" I echo, amazed. "I didn't know demons went back that far in history. I mean, the Bible mentions your kind, but still!"

Sebastian smiles almost serenely. "There can be no God if there is no evil," he tells me, sounding as though he's reciting something and I can't help but get the feeling he's said that line many, many times in the past. "And with no evil, a God is unnecessary."

"I still don't know how it's possible," I say, trying to come up with ideas and failing spectacularly.

"That is something I cannot tell you, my Lady. Even with your orders to answer every question, I cannot share that knowledge. It is for demons only."

Even though I'm a little annoyed he won't tell me, I reason that perhaps I'm not meant to know such things.

"Okay, well if you won't tell me how it's done, will you tell me what it is like being a demon? Don't sugarcoat things either, Sebastian, I want the full and ugly truth."

The red-eyed demon smirks at my word choice, rising from his spot in front of me in favor for the table chair. But before he does, he clears away my empty plate and refills my wine glass before settling in across from me.

"Being a demon is not something I would want for anyone, except for those who I am certain would flourish. You are one of those people, my Lady. I was not given a choice in the matter, because my creation happened when demons were much less civilized and contracts were unnecessary to collect souls. It is a difficult and despicable half-life, but one that I cannot imagine trading for anything. I had to learn to acclimate quickly to my new life, or risk death at the hands of another demon. We, as a sub race, believe in a natural selection of sorts – we will weed out the weak so the strong can prosper."

Hearing little bits of Sebastian's past is fascinating – even if it isn't much. I sip from my wine glass, waiting patiently for Sebastian to continue. He fixes his eyes on the swirling deep burgundy liquid in my glass, gathering his thoughts before he speaks.

"As a demon, you are tied to souls. They are your lifeline – what you need to survive. Although, neophyte demons may continue to eat mortal food if souls prove unavailable, but only for the first few years of new life. After that, food becomes tasteless and sickening. I will not lie to you – the first years of a new demon's life is challenging. If you aren't killed by a stronger, older demon, the lack of knowledge pertaining to how to gather souls will. You will starve without souls, and that will kill you."

I shudder with this new knowledge – it seems being a demon isn't all it's cracked up to be. But Sebastian isn't done, so I continue to listen patiently.

"You will become forever transient; not permitted to settle down in any permanent place. Mortals will learn of you and they will fear you, and that fear spreads like wildfire. You will be forced to roam the world – drifting from city to city, country to country, continent to continent. You will meet scores of demons who will take pleasure in testing you to your limits, and if that involves killing you in the process then so be it. You must be strong, ruthless, cunning and inventive if you are going to survive.

"And you, my Lady, are all of these things and more."

I pay no mind to the warped compliment tacked to the end of his speech and concentrate on everything he has just told me. It seems I was right about everything I've ever thought about a demon.

"To be a demon means to shackle yourself to souls forever," I say aloud, musing quietly. "But then what about you? Do you create me and then disappear?"

"I would remain at your side, Mistress, until you sent me away."

"Why would I make you leave?" I see a smile tugging at the corners of Sebastian's mouth before he answers; his eyes dancing with humor.

"You would grow tired of me."

I scoff instantly, dismissing that statement with the shake of my head. I don't think I can see myself ever getting tired of Sebastian, no matter how many years he is at my side, or vice versa. Even now, the demon's red eyes are mesmerizing, drawing me in.

I don't think I'll ever get tired of that.

"Of course, my Lady, the life of a demon is not an easy one. Only the strongest survive, and I will understand completely if you are not up to the task."

I bristle, and even though I catch on to the tactic he's using, it doesn't fail to get an instant reaction from me. "I am not weak." I say vehemently, narrowing my eyes. Sebastian grins with success and I turn my head away, a little embarrassed he was so easily able to rile me up and get a reaction like that from me.

"But even if it were something to consider, I have no time. There's still another murderer to eliminate, who is most likely arming himself with all the guns he can get his hands on after hearing about the deaths of his 'brothers'." I use the term sarcastically. "Not to mention the woman in the warehouse we have to find."

Sebastian seems a little disappointed in the shift in conversation, but takes it in stride. "She will not be difficult to find, my Lady. The detective's nephew gave us an adequate enough description, and I will have no problem locating the correct warehouse. I have traversed every square inch of London, after all."

"And what of when I sent you back to Driar's? Did you find anything of interest?"

Sebastian shakes his head, and my hopes of learning anything else about the mystery woman are dashed. "Regrettably, Mistress, no. I could find no shred of information on the woman _or_ Driar's accomplices, which leads me to believe everything we're looking for is all in his personal annals."

I don't feel cheated or disappointed, really. Driar's personal annals are more than enough information on the five men, but the woman still remains a wild card. I can't imagine anyone dastardly enough to have orchestrated an attack on my family _and_ friends, so I conclude that she must be the demon both Sebastian and I suspect to be involved. Who on earth but a demon could possibly have such influence over a band of men and persuade them to kill, maim and torture?

"At least raiding Driar's study wasn't a total waste of time, then." I haven't exactly scoured the annals with a fine-toothed comb, so for all I know there could be a ton of information in them about the woman. I instruct Sebastian to bring them to me and do just that – to look through every gruesome page and search for anything regarding the woman. But after an hour, it seems obvious that any information about her was kept off the pages and in Driar's mind.

"It is unfortunate that we cannot find anything, but do not forget that we still have one more man to go, my Lady." Sebastian closes the book in front of him and pushes it away to join the pile in the center of the table. I slouch down in my chair, feeling slovenly and hardly caring one bit. My spirits are low.

"My Lady, what do you intend to do if the woman is indeed a demon?" I glance up and meet Sebastian's gaze, knowing the reason behind his asking. "Surely you don't mean to try and kill her yourself?"

"I guess that wouldn't be a very smart idea, would it?"

"Not unless you have a death wish, Mistress." I smirk wildly at the irony in Sebastian's words, wondering where exactly the humor is in them that has me doing so. "Do not forget my proposal, Lady. I can give you the strength needed to kill her yourself."

I look away with a yawn, taking the dark-haired demon's suggestion to heart. I'm not sure what my decision will be just yet. Obviously I don't think it too terrible of a fate if I haven't refused it yet… but at the same time I'm a little reluctant to let go of my humanity. Of course, my humanity will completely vanish when Sebastian takes my soul, but even then I know I'll be moving on. Being shackled to the life of a demon does not seem too pleasant; but then again, it does mean I'll get to stay alive. I'm not ready to die quite yet – there are too many things I haven't gotten to do yet. I want to see the Americas and travel to foreign countries; I realize it won't matter if I do it as a human or as a demon.

I want to accept Sebastian's proposal, but my memories of my father stop me. I can't imagine him ever wanting me to wind up damned and a forever vagabond, but then again I'm sure he never pictured me under contract with a demon, either. I'm still not completely over learning that my father's death was orchestrated by a demon, but in time the shock and agony will fade. I know that the quickest way to make myself move on is to kill, and William Brigs has a big target pasted onto his forehead.

"William Brigs," I say aloud, draining my third glass of wine. The alcohol has my brain fuzzy and wobbly, but I know exactly what I'm saying. "He dies tomorrow night."

"Are you sure your injury is completely healed, my Lady?" Sebastian's crimson eyes drift down to my stitches, where the ripped one is crusted over with pus and dried blood. I'd completely forgotten to have Sebastian fix it earlier after the embarrassing wrestling match on the sitting room floor.

"I don't care about my injury," I say, glancing away from it. "I want him dead before he has too much time to come up with a plan of his own."

The demon's eyes continue to study my bullet wound, and he gets up to stand at my side to examine it earlier. "You _did_ rip a stitch, Mistress," he muses, taking my arm in his hands. The sleeves of my nightgown are sheer enough that he can see through them, and the demon gently touches my stitches with one finger. I flinch – the injury site is tender and red, puffy from irritation.

"Did you think I was lying, Sebastian?"

Sebastian bites back a smile. "Of course not, my Lady. I merely thought you were trying to get out of punishing me." I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his statement. "Come, Mistress. Allow me to fix this." The dark-haired demon tugs me to my feet and I follow him into my bedroom, where he sits me down on the bed and goes about collecting the supplies he'll need. I have a feeling more unnecessary pain is going to be involved, and when he returns with the strangely curved needle and thick thread, my heart picks up nervously. Sebastian, who can hear it, lifts his eyes to mine.

"Pain is an integral part of the healing process," he tells me. "You have no reason to be nervous, my Lady."

"Oh, sure. Don't worry about me – I'm fine."

Sebastian smirks and soaks a small cloth in antiseptic; the sharp, sterile smell stinging my nostrils. He has me hold the cloth over my wound after making me roll my sleeve up, and goes about readying the needle. After a few minutes, Sebastian removes the antiseptic cloth and has me lie down, arranging himself at my side and pinning my injured arm down.

"Don't I get a rag to bite down on?"

Sebastian's eyes flash to mine, looking like rock-hard rubies. "Do you think you will need one for such a small task, Mistress?"

This is a test – so I shake my head no.

I do bite my lip, though, feeling how my heart pounds in my chest like it's trying to crack my ribs. There is a moment before Sebastian begins, and once he does I grind my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut. It doesn't take long, but the stinging tug of the needle and thread is sickening this time. I feel my stomach lurch dangerously and I will myself not to throw up – the people who tell you wine numbs your nerves and makes your braver are total liars.

Sebastian wipes down the site with a damp rag and cleans everything up, freeing my arm. "All finished, my Lady. Try not to rip another stitch, if you would. You have a beginning infection already, and I would not like to see it grow."

I sit up, watching Sebastian re-wrap my arm with gauze, making sure it is tight. He rolls my sleeve gently down and clears away the mess quickly, returning to the bed where I haven't moved.

"It is late, my Lady. You must get some sleep." Sebastian ushers me under the covers, but before he can leave I grab his hand to stop him. I don't say anything or look at his glowing eyes; instead, I hold his hand close to my face and pull his white glove off, letting it fall into my lap. I run my fingers over his own, studying his black nails and the way they stand out against the creamy pale of his skin.

"If I become a demon, will my nails turn black like yours?" My voice is soft, but there is serious curiosity burning behind it. Sebastian perches at the edge of my bed, close to me, and gently pulls his hand from mine to run it slowly through my hair.

"Yes, my Lady." The crimson-eyed demon allows his other hand to steal over my knee and drift up my blanketed thigh, pressing into my back. I feel the heaviness of this moment, and how I know he's going to kiss me. I know he will join me in the bed, and I know I will ignore my burning arm to take things farther than I should.

So I don't hold back when his lips brush against mine hesitantly, wondering if I'll refuse him again. I don't, of course, opening my mouth to invite his tongue in and curling mine around his. Sebastian makes a noise that I feel, rather than hear, and the demon moves closer to me. The hand in my hair secures my face to his; keeping me rooted firmly in place and his other hand roams my body. I push the covers back and move to straddle him, beginning to unbutton his tailcoat and shirt. It doesn't seem fair that I'm usually either naked first or naked in an instant, while Sebastian seems to stay clothed until the very end. This time I want him to be naked before me, just for once.

Once his buttons are undone, I slide my hands over his skin. Too often his beautiful pale skin is covered and clothed; I want to be able to enjoy all of it, as often as I want. I use one hand to angle Sebastian's head back, tugging his hair sharply and hearing a strangled groan from the demon in response. The amount of freshly exposed skin is too tempting – I run my lips over every inch of it I can reach. His collarbones, his shoulders and chest; no part of his upper body escapes my mouth. As I go, I can feel his erection growing until it's pressing firmly against me, demanding attention. I let my hand wander between his legs, rubbing over it in a rhythmic fashion until Sebastian is breathing heavily. I remove my hand and gyrate my hips instead, feeling my arousal grow until waves of pleasure wash over me.

I slide his shirt and tailcoat off his shoulders, digging my fingers into his shoulders with every swirl of my hips and breathy moan. Sebastian's hands firmly grasp hold of my ass, kneading my skin just hard enough to draw louder moans from within me. I use my legs to lift myself just enough to be able to unbutton his pants, encouraging Sebastian to lift his hips so I can pull his pants down. Once they're off, I don't let him enter me right away. Instead, I maneuver his hard length so I can rub over it. The sensation of his bare skin against me is almost equal to the way his warm cock feels, stroking over my slick, wet core. Sebastian's groans are getting little more heated, and the way his fingers dig into my skin is evidence of his arousal. Already I can feel the warmth in my muscles, spreading slowly out to every nerve.

Before I lose myself, I reach down and angle his length perfectly, watching the way Sebastian reaches down with both hands – burying a couple of his fingers inside my wetness and the other to stroke himself. The sight is surprisingly sensual, and I watch for a few moments as the fingers inside me work in such a fashion that quickly has me mewling. I can't take anymore – I pull his fingers out of my core and bring them up to my mouth, running my tongue over them and cleaning off my own flavor. Sebastian's eyes positively burn, locking on to mine, and I notice how heavily clouded they are with lust and desire.

He wants me – and that feeling is comparable to none.

Sebastian is ready; _more _than ready, as it so happens. His hand continues to pump his cock, unable to take my teasing any longer. I gently remove it and take his length in my hand, angling myself over it and slowly lowering onto it. I throw my head back and moan breathlessly, unable to keep from swirling my hips instantly. I had intended to take it a little slower, but I can't hold back any longer. Sebastian's groans come when I begin to rise up and down, picking up speed until I'm all but slamming myself down upon him. I lean my body forward not only to kiss him, but also so that the head of his cock hits the deepest, most sensitive part of me and makes me bite down on Sebastian's lower lip to keep from crying out in sheer bliss.

The dark-haired demon's violet eyes are half-lidded with desire now; I can see them when I risk a peek through my lashes. His mouth is impatient and urgent on mine, tongue toying with my own. I continue riding Sebastian as though my life depends on it, and it only takes a few more seconds of my quick pace before my muscles are coiling; bunching together and giving way to shout-worthy bliss that has my toes curling and my fingers digging into Sebastian's shoulders.

The demon is not quite done – he flips me onto my back and pulls out, stroking himself over my navel until he finally comes with a breathless moan, spilling pearly strands onto my stomach. His head falls forward; black hair falling into his blazing eyes as he reaches for his shirt to wipe up the mess on my belly. The demon then lowers himself gracefully next to me and waits a few long minutes before pulling the covers up, allowing our hot bodies to cool off. I take Sebastian's hand again, once more studying those black nails and feeling my eyes growing heavier with the second. Perhaps it's the sleep or maybe the wine – I can't be too sure where my next statement comes from.

"I want to be like you," I murmur sleepily, yawning. "Make me what you are." I close my eyes, but not before seeing Sebastian's shocked ones bore into my face.

There's no doubt he'll remember _this_ in the morning.

* * *

><p><em>SEBASTIAN<em>

_I have been toying with the idea of creating a companion for myself for a long time now._

_My last master – Ciel – would have been the grudging cohort of mine, had I not killed him. Learning I had been cheated out of devouring his soul was maddening – so infuriating that after destroying the island and Claude, I destroyed my former master. The act itself was easy enough to do; I simply had to run him through with the demon blade pulled from Hannah and discarded after using it to end Claude, but preparation for it was excruciatingly challenging. A newly-made demon child or not, Ciel was still my master, but I reasoned that if Claude could kill Alois then what was stopping me from killing Ciel?_

_And once I made up my mind it was all too easy._

_I could not stand Ciel and his complaining. Many times before his rebirth I had contemplated killing him, just to ease the headaches he gave me, but then I would remember the contract. His soul was the most worthy I had encountered at the time and I knew my patience would be rewarded – but then Claude had to fog things up. Stealing first his memories and then my young master altogether was too much; no soul is worth that much trouble._

_But Valentina proves to be the exception to every rule. It matters not that her brain has been addled by not only a need to sleep, but by wine and a good fucking; she has agreed to join me in darkness. I will still be able to taste her soul through more fruitful means – no more blood. Because I will be her creator, part of her soul will still be drawn into me. She becomes tied to me in a way that is more intimate than any devouring ever done before; Valentina, in turn, will receive part of my soul to complete the process. My Lady does not have to die… but she will be reborn. I must get her to agree to these terms, because my instinct tells me she will not survive facing the woman we cannot seem to identify just yet._

_And all of this seems strikingly familiar – as if history is replaying itself. But this time I will end up with a companion better than any ever created. I have seen it happen. Valentina has the potential to become one of the most ruthless demons in existence, and with me at her side there will be no end to the carnage and destruction she is sure to bring. I can see her needing no contract to take souls, and she will be feared for it. The general public is not ignorant – they know of my kind and what we can do and everything we can offer. Even though we, too, are feared, the mortals are comforted by the knowledge that they must create a contract in order for we demons to take their souls. But there have been stories of others, of demons who require no contract for souls._

_And I can see Valentina becoming one of them. It is a good thing I am already so drawn to the mortal woman, for if she agrees to become what I am, I will not be able to end her life with my hands. I could end Ciel's, because I was not his creator. Hannah granted his wish to become a demon, but there was nothing stated in the contract that said I could not kill him. So kill him I did. And I enjoyed every second of watching those sapphire eyes widen in disbelief. I dumped Ciel's body into the canyon on the island that had once housed Claude's corpse, knowing soon enough it would evaporate just like the older demon. I kept the demon sword and hid it away, and kept nothing more._

_All bridges to my former master have been burned._

_Replaced by ones to Valentina._

_She sleeps, now, lying peacefully on her back with her dark hair splayed around her head. Those emerald eyes are blocked from me for a few hours. When she wakes I will be certain to remind her of her agreement, knowing Valentina will almost surely argue it. But my Mistress is a woman of her word – that much I have come to learn. She will not let herself go back on a sp0ken request or vow. The beautiful and ruthless Valentina Augustine is mine forever; soon to join me in darkness to spend eternity at my side._

_My patient waiting has come to an end – I have finally found the mortal to create into a perfect companion._


	15. decision, rewarding

**A/N:** Shorter chapter this time, but I have been so busy lately! Big apologies for the delay as well. But I hope all of you will enjoy this small filler-ish chapter, because I enjoyed writing it! And I KNOW you'll enjoy the next one! =)

**Warning:** VIORENCE!

* * *

><p>I am disoriented when I finally wake the following morning, not to mention alone.<p>

Sebastian is nowhere to be found; he isn't even in the barn, although a freshly fed and watered Star nickers at me from inside his stall. The snow on the ground is hard and crunches loudly when I walk on it, and the sky is a surprising cloudless blue, though it is not warm. I go back inside, telling myself not to worry and that Sebastian will return when he feels like it. The dark-haired demon has never left the house alone before, so him doing so now is a strange occurrence. I stretch out on the floor in the sitting room, pushing my bare toes as close to the flames of the fire as I can stand. I'm feeling weird – my mind tells me there is something I should remember about last night, but I can't quite put my finger on it. It feels important, and the fact that I can't remember irritates me to no end.

It also irritates me that Sebastian is gone without a trace. I know his disappearance isn't a bad, permanent thing; my marks still remain etched into my skin. But the fact that he left without a word is annoying.

"Sebastian, wherever you are, come back at once." I say these words aloud, in a voice no louder than my normal tone, wondering if it's true he will return with only the mention of his name. It doesn't happen all at once – a good minute passes, until I hear the subdued sound of my front door and know instantly it is him. The red-eyed demon turns the corner and sees me on the floor, placing his hand over his breast in a bow.

"Yes, Mistress?" I gather from Sebastian's serene expression that he wasn't out doing something he wasn't supposed to do, and the innocence in his question makes me think he doesn't realize I'm annoyed he'd left.

"Where did _you_ go?" I lift my gaze and prop myself up on my elbows, withdrawing my hot feet away from the fire.

"I had to pick something up, my Lady. I did not anticipate being gone for so long."

"Pick what up?" Sebastian closes his eyes, letting his hand drop from his breast before he answers.

"It is a gift for you, Mistress. I would rather not say." Curiosity piqued, I sit up and fix my eyes on his person. There is no obvious sign of him having something on him, but that doesn't mean much of anything. Sebastian's face is casual, and when he opens his eyes he breaks into a smile.

"It is only fitting, after your request last night."

I lift my eyebrow. "You'll have to remind me what happened last night," I tell him, pulling feet close to my body and wrapping my hands around them. "I don't remember what I said."

Sebastian kneels down, his face alight. "You agreed to become a demon, my Lady. How could you have forgotten?"

My jaw drops – surely he's joking? But the expression in his eyes tells me otherwise. Sebastian is being one-hundred percent truthful. Even so, I can't help but automatically rebuke his statement.

"Are you sure? Everyone makes mistakes every once in a while," I try to reason, try to weasel my way out of what I've gotten myself into. Sebastian shakes his head and I notice the light in his eyes die down a little with disappointment. Fear jolts through me, realizing I've signed myself up for a task I'm not sure I can go through with. To become a demon is that terrifying, unknown factor that no one but Sebastian can guide me through; I can barely even as him to tell me everything he knows without getting an annoying, cryptic reply. I want, more than anything, to have someone I can go to for advice. My sisters died before I had the chance to grow with them, therefore shutting me out from two always-loyal confidants. I consider the French dressmaker, but quickly chastise myself for thinking such an outlandish thought.

Madam Rouge would surely have me committed if she knew of all my trespasses.

And even so, I find myself desperately searching the scarlet depths of Sebastian's eyes; trying my damndest to seek out any sign of a mistake. When I find none, I sink back down onto the ground in a heap, fighting an internal battle. I don't want Sebastian to see my unsure emotions for fear of insulting or hurting him, but I can't keep the trepidation from leaking across my features. It's hard to find words that describe my feelings, but "cripplingly despondent" comes quite close. Sebastian is deathly silent, even when he comes to kneel quite close to me.

"The life of a demon is not for everyone," he tells me softly. To anyone else, his tone of voice would be mistaken for consoling, or perhaps even comforting. But I know Sebastian well enough to tell he is testing me – baiting me like a fish on a hook. "I will think no differently of you if you go back on your request, my Lady."

I sit up quickly; instantly angry. The peculiar look on the red-eyed demon's face tells me he knows exactly what he's doing, and when his eyes flash ultraviolet for a brief instant I clench my fists together.

"Stop that," I growl, turning my body to face him. "Stop testing me like that. You're really starting to get on my nerves."

Sebastian allows the tiniest of smiles to grace his mouth before he speaks. "There is the fire and emotion that leads me to believe you will make a great demon," his eyes are like red saucers, boring into mine. "Mistress, you have the most promise of any mortal I have ever come across! Why let it go to waste?"

I grit my teeth and say nothing, angry with myself for falling into his trap yet _again_. The cogs in my brain are turning rapidly, trying to think of something clever to say back. I come up with nothing, and my lack of answer makes the demon's smile grow. I drop my gaze to his white-gloved hands, remembering how suddenly enamored I had been with his black finger nails the other night. There is just something fascinating about the way they look, and I want to see them again, but I don't want to give Sebastian the wrong idea and change the conversation in the slightest.

"I did not think you were so eager to die, Mistress."

"I'm not!" I exclaim abruptly, lifting a burning gaze to his. "I don't know what I want! I'm not ready to die yet, but that can't be helped. I signed your contract and offered my soul to you, and it's done. What more is there?"

"There is so much more, my Lady." Sebastian leans forward as he speaks, clearly eager to say everything. "You can become my partner for eternity. Our souls will become intertwined with the other, and together you and I could become more powerful than anyone ever dreamed."

Those white pentagrams begin to glow faintly in Sebastian's eyes, and their presence is a little alarming. Violet rings the white and shimmers with a tainted light, sending a shiver down my spine.

"So it's all about power to you, then?" I can't explain where the feelings of hurt come from – they bubble up and wrap around my body like the coils of a snake.

"No, my Lady. It is about the state of your soul, and about the way I feel."

My heart leaps into my chest. "And how _do_ you feel?"

"I think that letting your death come as planned will be a waste, Mistress. There are so many other great things I can show and teach you. I do not feel like taking your soul as planned will be very prudent." Sebastian's words deflate me quickly; I look away and bite my lip. "And I will not be so keen on letting you go, just yet."

I don't reply to him, because I get the feeling anything I say will get the same response. Instead I look into the flames of the fire, ruminating over several of the things he's said. Sebastian is completely right – I'm _not_ ready to die just yet. I want to live, and I want to see the world and experience new things. But with Sebastian's unbreakable demon contract literally hanging over and on my shoulders, there is no way out of my humanity's end.

Unless, of course, I become a demon.

The prospect is both exciting and terrifying; I want to experience what it's like, but at the same time I love being human. Naturally, I have no ideas at all about what it would be like to become a demon. The prospect of possibly unlimited power is so very tempting; perhaps it is due to everything I've been going through for the last couple of weeks. Never would I have thought that my own hands were capable of ending a life – is this the feeling I'll experience every day when I'm a demon?

"Trust me, my Lady – you will never feel the same again."

There Sebastian goes again, making me wonder if he can read my mind.

"How is it done?" My curiosity wants to know these things – the morbid, dark side of my curiosity.

Sebastian blinks, and when he does the violet is gone from his eyes. In an uncharacteristic gesture, the dark-haired demon settles down on the floor next to me, crisscross, and folds his hands in his lap.

"It is not something I would like to discuss, Mistress."

That's not the answer I expected after watching him settle near me. I sit up, pulling my skirts over and around my legs.

"I'd like to know, Sebastian. It'll probably help me decide. Is it very gruesome?" I'm surprised at the hints of hope in my voice, and the demon notices.

Sebastian grins, shaking his head. "Not particularly, my Lady. It is more unpleasant than anything."

"Then tell me."

The demon sighs. "There isn't much I can tell you, my Lady, but the procedure itself fairly simple. There is an island we demons have created for harvesting mortal souls, and that is where it takes place. A lot of it involves much of the way I would take your soul for payment with an ordinary contract, and a lot of it is demon magic. There is nothing gruesome about the procedure, nor is it intolerably painful."

"Demon magic?" I echo, lifting an eyebrow.

Sebastian smiles. "Once more, that is knowledge for demons and demons alone."

I huff angrily, fighting the smile on my face despite everything. "Fine, Sebastian. But I'm not sure I still want to be what you are…" I look back into the fire, biting my lip and trying my hardest to avoid his gaze. "I don't know if I'm ready to let go of my humanity."

"Would you rather die, then, Mistress? For when I take your soul, your life comes to an end. If you were to become a demon, you would not have to suffer the unimaginable pain and torment that awaits you in hell. You can escape all of that and be with me, at my side. Whether or not you choose to stay true to your word, your life as you know it _will_ come to an end. I will be the cause of both of these things, but one of them is more favorable."

The flames hold my outer attention, but there is no denying that I'm completely absorbed with that he's saying.

"Give it some thought, my Lady. I will hope for an answer when Brigs is eliminated."

I nod silently, seeing him stand out of the corner of my eye. The dark-haired demon disappears into the kitchen and I am left alone with my thoughts, now tainted with the presence of killing William Brigs. My arm feels ten times better; Sebastian will soon need to take out the stitches in the next day or two. There is no more pain in it – only when I tweak it too hard or in the wrong direction do I feel a slight sting of discomfort. It pleases me, though, because I know I've almost healed to my full potential.

I get up and follow after where Sebastian has gone, finding him with his back to me and watching as he boils water in my robin's egg blue speckled teapot. The demon is swift and efficient; pouring the hot water into a matching teacup and spooning in two helpings of the powdered tea mix I favor and a teaspoon of sugar, setting the saucer and cup on the table for me. I sit and take it, sipping the scalding hot liquid and ignoring the way it burns my tongue and throat.

"Tonight," I say, "tonight we will go for Brigs." I set the cup down gingerly, liking the dainty _clink_ it makes when the bottom touches the saucer.

"Has your arm healed well enough to allow it, my Lady?"

I nod vigorously. "Yes, of course it is. It's almost time to take out the stitches. I can handle _anything_, Sebastian, believe me." The demon hides his smile by turning away, sending his gaze out the frosty window.

"Of that I have no doubt, my Lady."

* * *

><p>Brigs makes his home in Manchester.<p>

Sebastian and I set out shortly after nightfall, taking me up in his arms and leaping into the nearest tree like a monkey. The night is snowless and frigid – my breath hangs in front of my face like an icy cloud. Dark shadows lace the trees and the ground below, casting an ominous presence about the night. Something feels different about this one… but I can't exactly place what it is. It takes about two hours to reach Manchester, and if Sebastian wasn't a demon I'd say the cold is affecting him something fierce. I know that even being carried is hard to manage, at least for me – it is so cold that I can't feel my fingers, toes or face.

I begin to think that being unable to feel temperature like Sebastian might not be such a bad thing.

Brigs lives in a modest home; something slightly bigger than my own but a little more elegant. He has a front lawn that is impeccably tended to, even under the snow I can see the care that goes into keeping it pristine – rose bushes covered by burlap sacks for the winter, manicured shrubs dusted with days old snow and a row of fruitless apple trees lining his front walk. It isn't too late, but still there are no lights on except for a soft glow in the upstairs window.

The demon sets me down, letting me use his arm to stabilize myself as it isn't too easy to stand with numb feet.

"Come, my Lady. I know you will be anxious to end this entirely."

My heart lurches with excitement at the prospect of what's to come – getting information and causing pain are at the very front of my mind. I loop my arm through Sebastian's and walk up his shoveled pathway, hearing the dark-haired demon chuckle.

"Feeling in a better mood, are we, Mistress?"

I look up at him, noticing the way the moonlight washes his pale skin into a shimmering glow. "Who says I was in a bad mood before?"

Sebastian merely smiles and shakes his head, saying nothing. "Get us inside. I don't want to waste anymore time." The demon studies the front door, seeming to tense. I watch him curiously, picturing the cogs in his intelligent mind turning rapidly. "Is something wrong?"

Sebastian nods quickly. "I think you will find there is something different about this man, my Lady."

My eyebrow lifts with curiosity, but I don't say anything. I get the feeling Sebastian won't tell me, anyway, so I won't waste my time.

"I don't care. Get us in, Sebastian, and do it now before I freeze my fingers off."

Sebastian laughs, gripping the doorknob with his white-gloved hand ad pulling hard enough to break the lock. We slip inside and I relish at the warmth; Brigs' fireplace is down to embers, but there's still a significant amount of warmth as compared to outside the house. It is dark, but I can still make out the large and ornate portrait hanging above the mantle – a beautifully crafted painting of Jesus Christ.

"Hm," I muse, crossing my arms. "Never seen that before." Decorating the mantle itself are several porcelain crosses and a bust of Jesus in the very center. "So Brigs considers him a religious man, does he?"

"Indeed, Mistress."

I turn and cross the room, heading toward the dark staircase. More and more painting of the Lord hang in the hall, making me roll my eyes. Sebastian follows behind me with the trunk, standing at my side when I come to a stop in front of the only closed door in the hall – the one with the silver cross above the doorframe.

"Jeez, what is his obsession with crosses and religion?"

Sebastian makes a neutral sound, shrugging his shoulders. "Shall we?" The demon steps forward and opens the door, allowing me inside first. Brigs is leaning against the headboard of his bed with his knees up, reading a book. He glances up with surprise, removing a pair of glasses and setting them on the bedside table under a lit candelabra.

"I should have expected you, Valentina," he says, closing the book. The candle light glitters off two words embossed on the front cover: "Holy Bible." Brigs sits further up and smoothes his blankets into his lap, clearing his throat. "The Lord told me a heathen would come to deliver my end."

"Heathen?" I echo, turning toward Sebastian.

"Someone who does not identify with any established religion, my Lady." Sebastian sets the trunk down and closes Brigs' bedroom door behind us, quietly locking his hands behind his back and waiting patiently.

I laugh, rolling my eyes. "Do you consider yourself a religious man, Brigs? I noticed all the crosses and paintings in your home. It's all a little bit of an overkill, don't you think?"

A serene smile crosses Brigs' face. "They are marvelous, aren't they? Nothing sparks the fire in me like the word of the Lord. And, if you don't mind, I would prefer if you called me Reverend Brigs."

I laugh again, this time with more enthusiasm. "Are you ordained, or is this all a joke?"

Brigs shakes his head fervently. "Of course I'm ordained! In fact, it was not too long ago that I turned to the Lord for guidance. Three years, perhaps?"

Sebastian helps me out of my heavy jacket and hangs it on the wall peg. I brush my skirts out and drift through his room, studying each object in it. Most of his possessions are religious related, and they make me sick to see.

"If my memory serves me right, three years ago is about the time Lynnay's body was given to Scotland Yard," I tell him, picking up a heavy plaster bust of Jesus' head and shoulders. "Felt guilty, did you?"

"Impossibly so," he answers immediately. "I found it was hard to live with my sins. Letting that demon woman control me was harder to overcome than I ever imagined, until I studied under Reverend Jude in London for quite some time. I felt it was easier to let go of my past with his guidance."

I stop where I stand, lifting my brow. "You figured you would become a reverend to atone for your sins?" I glance to Sebastian, seeing his eyes burn. "How has that worked for you so far?"

Brigs sighs, leveling his gaze on mine. The expression on his face has changed; morphed into a mask of cynical anger. "I don't have to explain myself to someone as unclean as you, godless woman. You and your unholy consort will rot in the depths of hell for _your_ trespasses, be sure of it."

I narrow my eyes, squeezing my fingers around the base of the religious bust. A red haze swims before my vision, and I draw my arm back and chuck the bust in Brigs' direction. The man ducks at the last second, his jaw dropping. "That's what I think of your religious u-turn," I seethe. "You destroyed my life! You took everything from me! Do you honestly think the love of the Lord will erase those sins and wash the blood of my family of your hands?"

Sebastian smirks, closing now-violet eyes.

"Yes, I do indeed. Tell me, Valentina – what do you do when you feel hopeless? Who do you turn to?"

His questions catch me off-guard. I look to Sebastian and begin to smile.

"Do you see the man standing in front of the door?" I gesture to the dark-haired demon, who has opened his ultraviolet eyes and fixed them on Brigs.

"Yes, that demon is the source of your dirty life."

"Dirty life?" I laugh, crossing my arms and drifting toward the demon. "Sebastian has made me feel alive. Never before has such an intense feeling gone through me, and I feel it when I'm killing. I'm sure you can relate? Seeing as how you're the only one left of your brothers and you've smeared the blood of my loved ones more than once." I'm trembling now, standing with balled-up fists and glaring heatedly at Brigs. It is infuriating that this man can act so holy to _my_ face – especially after what he's done. I see Sebastian moving out of the corner of my eye – he's backing away.

I look toward him and see a strange expression on his face; it's almost like pain. I walk to him, keeping my eyes on Brigs and sidle up to him.

"Something wrong?" I hiss with annoyance, watching the demon's face pucker as if he's sucked a sour lemon.

Suddenly, Brigs bursts into laughter. "Too many holy artifacts, right? I can see the pain in your eyes, demon. I can see how it burns you."

Sebastian smiles, and the darkness of it makes me shiver. "I might not be able to touch you, false man of God, but I can ensure your soul decays in hell where it belongs." The venom in Sebastian's voice is very surprising – so much so that I feel the hair on my arms rise. Questions bloom in my brain; is it true Sebastian can't touch Brigs? Or does he mean he can't _hurt_ him?

"Can you be in here?" I ask in a low voice, raising my eyebrow.

"Where my Lady is, I will go."

I take that as a yes and turn my attention back to the false Reverend, who has gotten out of bed and drifted toward his window. I bend my knees and open the small steamer trunk, pulling out my dagger and the length of rope. I don't know if I'll be able to restrain Brigs on my own, but I'm sure as hell going to try. The balding man sees my reflection in the window, advancing toward him, and he turns quickly around.

"Do you want to see what that devil woman did to all of us?" He rolls up the sleeves of his nightgown and turns his wrists toward the ceiling, showing me the line of scarred over X's that circle around his wrist. "She put these on us so she could control us. Call on us whenever she needed us. So now every time I look down at my hands, I'm reminded of who I used to be, and it eats me up inside."

I grab Brigs' wrist and hold it tightly, hardly caring about his demon marks. I'm not surprised that this woman has marked him, but I am a little surprised I never noticed them on any of the other men. While Brigs is distracted by his memories, I swiftly palm the dagger the way I'm comfortable with and dig it into his arm, dragging it down his forearm. Then, while he's shouting and trying to yank his arm free, I finish the cut by making it look like a cross.

The man clutches his carved arm to his chest, soaking his nightgown with blood and narrowing his eyes despite the whimpers of pain that escape his lips.

"Rest assured you _will_ pay for that," he tells me through clenched teeth, "when your sins and misgivings are laid out bare for the Lord to see and judge."

I roll my eyes and wipe my blade clean on my skirts. "Do you honestly think I fear something like that? I don't plan to die any time soon, Brigs, so I have no worries."

A pained look crosses his face and I think it's because of his injury, until he opens his mouth to speak. "_Reverend_ Brigs, if you don't mind!"

"But I _do_ mind." I tell him, crossing my arms. "I'll call you that if you let me give you a second cross on your other arm," I propose, my eyes lighting up. Brigs' shadowy gaze tells me he's not so fond of the idea. Blood is pouring like a waterfall out of his arm; apparently the cut is deeper than I thought. I look past his suffering form and out the dark window, where Sebastian's reflection greets me. His eyes are washed over with violet and I can tell they're locked on me – perhaps it is something I've said? Truth be told, I don't much like the idea of dying after killing this supposed holy man. What will my punishments be _now_? That thought frightens me more than the idea of becoming a demon does, and in that instant I make up my mind. I turn around enough to see Sebastian and still keep Brigs in my peripheral sight, meeting his eyes.

"I've come to a decision, Sebastian," I begin, getting his attention even more completely. "When this man is finished, you will recreate me." I make sure every inch of Sebastian's mark is bared before continuing on: "That is an order."

A dark grin stretches across Sebastian's face and his eyes flash more vividly than I've ever seen them. I can tell he's pleased – immensely so.

"Then do not keep me waiting, my Lady."

I grin, turning back to Brigs and snatching his other arm, stretching it out and making things quick. I give him another cross laceration; this one deeper than the last and bleeding more profusely. The religious man is as white as a sheet and sinks to his knees, cradling his injured arms to his chest and rolling to one side. Brigs groans softly, closing his eyes.

"Sorry you have to die like this," I smirk, taking a few steps closer. "But at least you've died with your Lord's insignia gracing your arms!" Brigs opens his eyes to give me one final scathing look – and the breath leaves his body one last time. I can tell; his body relaxes completely and his arms fall away from his chest, leaking blood onto the floor. I bend over his body and dip my finger in his blood, drawing the number '5' on his forehead and feeling an incredible satisfaction that's never enveloped me like this before.

Suddenly Sebastian is behind me, pulling me up into his arms and kissing me with a surprisingly ferocious passion. I wrap my arms around his neck to hold on, gripping the dagger's hilt tightly and winding my fingers in his hair.

"Come, Mistress. It is time."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I absolutely HAD to leave all of you hanging. Had to. It's a necessary evil, as I'm sure you will understand. =3


	16. rebirth, unpleasant

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay, all. =) I do hope this chapter makes up for it! We've almost reached the end of the story, and I'm going to try and make these last bunch of chapters worth reading! Reviews would make the last of the story a little less sad. =P

**Warning:** A tad bit of violence, as well as everyone's favorite sort of scenes!

* * *

><p>Sebastian takes me back home, where he tells me to clean up and to choose my finest dress. I'm a little bothered that the demon does not "help" me bathe, especially after that kiss in Brigs' room, but I get over it quickly; a scared and nervous feeling replacing it. I pick the red silk dress of Madam Rouge's and Sebastian helps me into it, caressing my skin with gentle fingers. I can tell he is absolutely thrilled that I've made the choice to join him in darkness, and I'm beginning to look forward to it as well. But my nerves are at an all-time high, making my hands shake. I try my hardest to hide that from Sebastian, knowing he won't take it too well. He'll see it as I'm truly <em>not<em> ready to become what he is, and that's farthest from the truth.

For reasons I can't understand, Sebastian insists that I make myself as presentable as possible, and that involves messing around with my hair. I'm worried it'll take too long, but the dark-haired demon shrugs my concern off.

"We have all night, my Lady. This part is necessary." I listen to what Sebastian says and take my time, making sure each strand of hair is curled precisely and pinned in the perfect place. I'm not sure why Sebastian insists on all of this, but these menial tasks help to distract me. As I begin powdering my face before I line my eyes thinly with a kohl pencil, I can't help but think I'm dragging most of this out to take as long as it can. Usually I only spend around twenty minutes of hair and makeup, when I even bother to do them, but tonight I think it must have been an hour. Sebastian is a quiet presence, always behind me and always waiting.

When I finally finish, there is a new light in the demon's eyes.

"Are you ready to go, my Lady?"

I nod my head once, keeping my mouth closed for fear of changing my mind. I get up from the seat in front of my vanity mirror, nervously toying with my hair while Sebastian fetches my mother's fur jacket for me. My hands tremble while he holds the jacket out for me to feed my arms through the sleeves, and his sharp eyes finally catch the reaction.

"Is everything all right, Mistress?" There is a touch of concern in his voice, but it is overshadowed by something like impatience. "It is time to go."

"I'm fine," I insist, buttoning my jacket tightly and shoving my hands in my pockets. "Let's go."

Sebastian curls his arm through mine and leads me outside, where Star is hooked up to my carriage. The dark-haired demon helps me into the carriage and closes the door behind me, taking his seat up front and pulling forward. The windows are too frosty and fogged over to see outside and with the late hour, I'm awfully tired. I let my eyes close and drift off to sleep, slipping into dreamland before I realize it.

When I wake, I am laying in boat and drifting down a peaceful river.

I sit up with a jolt, surprised to see the sky above me a pure white; devoid of any and all color. Gentle drifts of snow fall quietly from the colorless sky, landing over me and on the placid water with tiny, melting shimmers. The river we're on is not very wide; I can see the banks on either side of our long, wooden boat. The grass is an electric green, like the green the lawn looks during a thunderstorm, and the air smells like a storm about to break.

I look back and see Sebastian standing about a foot behind me, pushing the boat through the water with a long pole, like a gondolier. His eyes are a vivid crimson against the backdrop of that strange colorless sky, blinking with slow deliberation. They are warm and inviting, as is his smile. This is a new Sebastian – one I'm not so sure about just yet.

"We are nearly there, my Lady. It should not take too much longer to arrive at the island." He places one hand on his breast and slightly bows his torso, closing his eyes. "Look into the water, my Lady. I think you shall find it interesting."

Curious now, I lean over the side of the boat and stare into the water. Slowly I begin to realize what I'm seeing, and my jaw drops slowly.

"Sebastian, what _is _this?"

I hear the demon make an amused noise. "That is your life, Mistress. A cinematographic visual of everything you have seen, been a part of or caused."

I look back into the water with fascination, beginning to recognize several moments in my life. I watch myself crouching down and hiding my face in my hands as a girl of sixteen, crying after news of another death. I see myself raising the gun and pulling the trigger on Driar, smiling as his blood sprays up and out. Everything I see fascinates me – especially the expressions on my face as I'm killing. I can now see what Sebastian saw; pure, unbridled fury blended together with joy and macabre excitement.

It makes me think that maybe I _am_ cut out for life as a demon.

Looking up from the water and forward, all I can see is the stretch of placid river and electric green grass.

"Sebastian, when will we reach where we're going?"

"The island, Mistress," he reminds me. "It will not be too much longer, once you fall asleep again."

"I'm not tired," I tell him, stifling a sudden yawn. Truth be told I'm _not_ tired, but the air seems heavy and oppressive, making me yawn.

Sebastian chuckles, and I turn again to look at him. He pushes the pole steadily through the water, keeping his eyes forward the entire time.

"The air is laden with fumes," he says. "It makes mortals like yourself want to sleep. The journey to the island _is_ long, but you will hardly notice."

The more he speaks the more I feel my eyelids lowering, becoming heavier with each passing second. I don't respond to him, and lay back on the floor of the boat, listening to the water lap at the sides. The sound is soothing; calming and assuring and makes me want to sleep.

So, I do.

* * *

><p>When I open my eyes once again it's because the boat has slide up onto the banks of an island. The air is different here – it's heavy, but in a stifling, hot way. I sit up quickly, startled with my head on a swivel. Everything around me is leagues different than the atmosphere on the river; it is much darker and the stench of sulfur is thick in the air. Behind me, I can hear Sebastian setting down the steering pole into the bottom of the boat, listening to his few footsteps. Then he leaps from his stand in the back and lands cleanly on the shore, smiling serenely and holding out his hand.<p>

Now that we've reached the island, my nerves are racing. My heart pounds so hard that it shakes my chest and it's a little challenging for me to stand up in the swaying boat. I take Sebastian's hand, hating how my hand shakes visibly as it settles in his. He helps me from the boat and takes me in his arms, gathering me up to his chest.

"This is not something to fear, my Lady," he murmurs, inclining his head low enough so his mouth is right at my ear. "This is a new beginning." His hands skim over my sides and back, trailing over the buttons that hold the dress on my body. Even though his voice and words are gentle, it doesn't help to calm my nerves. I swallow and nod stiffly, trying to even out my breathing before Sebastian lets me go. He does, and the demon's red eyes are ablaze. The dimness of the air washes his face in a pale sort of gray, but his hair is as inky as ever. Sebastian places one gloved hand over his breast and bows fluidly.

"Then let's go," I tell him, offering a tiny smile. Sebastian surprises me; scooping me up in his arms and beginning forward. The snow that had been falling from the sky over the river has switched – it's now a grey powdery flake that settles thickly on Sebastian's shoulders. I reach out to wipe it off and see how it sort of covers over the black of his tailcoat, and I recognize it as ash. It makes sense; the volcano I'd spotted upon reaching the shores of the island is undoubtedly the source.

The heat in the air is prickling and uncomfortable, but I push it away and ignore it. I'm too fascinated with the island itself; evergreen trees stripped bare of their needles are the most prominent thing, as well as broken boulders and jagged gouges in the ground. I understand exactly why Sebastian has me in his arms – there are places where no one would be able to traverse. Sebastian has to jump and leap from space to space, which would have been an impossible feat if I had been alone.

The smell and pressure in the air is becoming bothersome, as well as the ash drifting from the sky exactly like snow. It's definitely a lot less attractive than the white powders, and it clings to our clothes a lot more thoroughly. Sebastian comes to a stop before an impressive set of concrete steps, leading up to a sort of temple building. The demon sets me down and brushes me off, grimacing at all the ash dusting my crimson dress.

"Come, my Lady." Sebastian offers me his arm like a gentleman and smiles when I curl my arm around his and allow him to lead me up the stairs. They are crumbling and chipped and in some places huge chunks are missing altogether and have fallen down to the ravaged ground. It takes a good couple of minutes to get to the top, where crumbling pillars make a perfectly even square around a wide expanse of stone cracked with age and wear. Half of a marble bench is in the exact middle of the square; the other half seemingly 'misplaced'. I catch sight of a line of arcane symbols down at the bottom of the bench and in the distance the volcano waits with a plume of white smoke rising from the tip.

"What are those symbols?" I ask, pointing to the carved characters.

"It is an ancient language, lost to all but demons, my Lady. Now, please sit."

Sebastian leads me to the bench and turns me, encouraging me to sit as he brushes the ash from my hair and brushes the hair from my face with gentle, white-gloved fingers. He leans in and kisses my forehead, trailing a line down to my lips and claiming them with passion. I'm taken back by his sudden display as well as with the way he pushes so close that my back is pressed uncomfortably tight to the cold stone bench. Despite that, my hands curl around the lapel of his tailcoat and I rake my teeth over his lower lip, which elicits a dark chuckle from the demon.

"There is that passion," he murmurs throatily against my lips. "The fire for a demon." He backs away and straightens, and I keep my back against the bench. The strangest feeling has come over me and my body. I feel heavy and entirely calm yet alert as Sebastian's eyes glaze over with violet, shimmering and burning. The white pentagrams have come forth and are now glaringly obvious as he kneels before me, bending forward and taking my chin in his hand.

"Will you tell me when you're about to do it?" I blurt, suddenly frightened and nervous. I grab handfuls of my skirts and squeeze tightly, breathing quickly.

"Calm yourself, Mistress," Sebastian strokes my cheek with a soft hand, meeting my eyes. "I told you before this will not be painful. You have absolutely nothing to fear, and I will be at your side for as long as you'll have me."

I'm not sure what to say back, but a smile sneaks onto my face. Sebastian kisses me again to try and calm my nerves, and it seems to work just a little.

"Things go fairly quickly," he tells me. "You will be in a sort of trancelike state after I take a small amount of your blood, but that should be fairly familiar to you by now, my Lady." I try to keep from rolling my eyes at his teasing, and listen as he continues. "My venom goes through that small incision and enters your bloodstream, but by that time you will be unconscious. There really is not much more that I can tell you, except for that when you wake you will be reborn."

The pounding of my heart slows – something about knowing it won't be painful and it won't take long is comforting, to say the least.

"Okay," I reply. "Do what you have to."

I take a deep breath when Sebastian tilts my head gently back, exposing my neck. It makes me feel vulnerable, especially when he leans slowly in and I feel his lips probing my skin. I can feel his eyes on me, and when a sharp slash of pain shivers through my body I know he's bitten me. The demon drags his tongue over the wound and I begin to feel woozy. My blood begins to race and I feel myself slipping into darkness, but it is a slow descent. I can feel his venom entering my bloodstream – it feels like a Charlie horse throughout my entire body, seizing my muscles and tweaking them unpleasantly.

I can feel Sebastian's lips along my collarbone, ghosting over his soon-to-be gone demon marks until a black haze slips over my vision and pulls me under.

* * *

><p>I regain consciousness in my own bed, laying flat on my back. Sebastian sits at my side, stroking my hair with even movements. I can feel his hands without opening my eyes and know he's using his right one, quickly calculating the angle at which he sits. My senses are heightened and something close by makes my mouth water – it is like an insistent tug at my attention and a desire for whatever it is shakes my limbs.<p>

"Sebastian, what is that?" The sound of my voice has me opening my eyes. Even though it really isn't any different, I can still sense something new in it; an underlying flow of new power tinges it.

"That is the scent of a soul, my Lady. You can sense it now, as you have been reborn into a demon."

I sit up, noticing how easily the movement comes to me. I feel new strength in every pore of my body, and it makes me grin with excitement.

"Do I look any different?" My hands touch my face and hair, running over my bare shoulders and down my legs. Sebastian watches me with sharp eyes and I can easily detect the desire in them as he scours my body with his eyes.

"Yes," he tells me slowly. "Yes, you do."

I quickly get out of bed and cross the room to the vanity mirror, critically examining my reflection with a mystified expression. I don't know what Sebastian saw, because I really don't look any different. Maybe my skin is a _little_ paler, but I honestly don't see a significant outward change. Sebastian follows me and I watch in the mirror as he slowly wraps his arms around my waist, tucking his head in the crook of my neck.

Then I notice my demon marks are gone; completely vanished from my shoulders and chest. My hands move up and cover the clear, unmarked skin with fascination, beginning to grin with happiness. Sebastian's lips are a little distracting, especially with his violet eyes glowing from under half-lidded eyes in the mirror.

"There isn't much difference," I point out, letting my hands drop to my sides. Sebastian's hands loosen from my waist and run up and down my arms, bringing goosebumps to my skin.

"I beg to differ, Mistress," he murmurs into my neck, nipping my skin. "There is an even bigger difference than I anticipated." His gloved hands skim up to my shoulders and slide down to cup my breasts, gently squeezing them with a dark laugh, making me roll my eyes. Sebastian turns me around and takes my face in his hands and covers my mouth with his, grinding his teeth over my lower lip this time. Instead of cringing, the pain feels good – actually, it feels _amazing_. I break for a wild gasp of air and throw my arms around his neck, suddenly turned on by the promise of pain.

I grind my body into his as roughly as I can and dig my fingers into his shoulders. Sebastian takes the hint and moves his hands down to my ass, gripping it and lifting me up. I grin and lock ankles around his back, deepening the kiss when he sets me down on the vanity dresser top with ease. I hear countless things knocked down but hardly care. I push his tailcoat off from around his shoulders and Sebastian lets it fall to the floor without breaking the kiss, using his nimble fingers to work on my dress buttons. I let my hands slide down his chest to undo his shirt and pull it off violently enough to get a laugh from him, and lavish his bare chest with attention.

The demon's breathing grows a little heavier when I swirl my tongue around his left nipple, tweaking the other with two fingers. Sebastian leans me back up and pushes my dress down around my waist, leaning me back against the mirror and taking my previous role in covering my naked front with attention. I run my hands through his hair and squirm underneath him, making small sounds of pleasure as his tongue swirls around my nipple. I feel his teeth bite down over it and I cry out, but it's in delight, arching my back.

"Oh, Sebastian!" I gasp, tugging at his hair to get his attention. He looks up at me with lustful eyes and I can't help but smirk.

"Bite it," I instruct him, jerking when he does. Sebastian's brilliant eyes never leave mine, running his tongue over the mark, the edges of his mouth turning up into a smile. I put my hands down on the dresser top and tilt my hips upward, inviting Sebastian to pull my dress off. The demon complies and tugs the dress down, letting it fall to the floor.

Something new grabs my attention – I can feel the air ghosting over my skin, but not the coolness of it. In fact, I don't feel any temperature difference in the room; I just feel the natural heat of my body and that of Sebastian's. That makes me smile, and when Sebastian parts my legs to fit himself between them and kiss me once more, I smile against his mouth. I can feel his erection pressing temptingly into my wet core, so I let my hands tuck into the waist of his pants and stroke the soft skin just below his naval. The red-eyed demon groans, taking my hand and pressing it over the bulge in his pants. He maneuvers my hand into rubbing over it and pushes into my touch, tilting his head back and breathing heavily. I remove Sebastian's pants and take his cock into my hands, dry pumping him until he grasps my hips, removes my hands and leans me back again, picking me up and driving his length into me.

"Oh yes…" I moan, letting my head fall back and gripping the edge of the vanity dresser with white knuckles. Sebastian's hands hold onto my hips tightly, thrusting into me with such force that the dresser and mirror slam into the wall with each pump. I lift both of my legs and rest them over his shoulders, feeling how the angle of penetration changes and sliding lower down so he can get in deeper. Sebastian's breathing turns into groaning which turns into moans, and the demon's red eyes slide into violet. I meet his heavy gaze and flash him a tempting smile, biting my lip and drawing my fingers down to touch myself.

My own stimulation paired with his has both of us losing control quickly and we reach our edge easily. Sebastian pulls me up from the vanity and helps me stand, wrapping his arms around me.

"My Lady, I will get you cleaned up and then I must take you out to find your first soul. The life of a new demon is in jeopardy until he or she devours their first soul."

Excitement courses through me and my senses react to the scent of a soul on the wind, removing myself quickly from the demon's arms. The task is all-too easy to do, and it makes Sebastian grin with amusement. He and I clean up in the bathroom, spending perhaps a little too much time in an embrace and not enough time doing any actual work, but eventually it all gets done. The hour is late, but I'm not tired in the least. I remember Sebastian telling me about a demon's lack of needing to sleep, and I figure I can fill this newfound time with many new learned things.

When I am dressed, Sebastian takes me outside. It is strange to walk into the cold, November night without layers and layers of thick furs, but it is exciting nonetheless. The air should feel cold, and my memory tells me it most certainly is, but I feel nothing. The only sensation is that of my natural body heat. Even when tiny flakes of snow begin to fall from the slate-gray sky, I still feel no difference. I lift my arms and spin with a huge grin, hearing Sebastian's chuckle behind me.

"Are we enjoying ourselves, my Lady?"

I bend and scoop of a handful of crusty snow, trying to mold it into a ball and chuck it in Sebastian's direction. The other demon allows the pitiful ball to break apart against his shoulder, sending me a wan look. It's clear he doesn't get the entertainment in a snowball fight, but I won't let that dampen my mood.

"You were right about not feeling temperature," I say to him, grinning. "This couldn't be better!"

Sebastian rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "If you will concentrate, Mistress? The first soul is an imperative moment in the young demon's life."

I dust my hands off on my skirt and shrug, rejoining him at his side.

"Fine, Sebastian, find me a soul to steal."

Sebastian smiles, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "I cannot _find_ you this soul," he tells me. "You must find the right one yourself."

"There are right and wrong souls?"

"Not in the sense you think, my Lady. A soul calls to a demon, much like yours called to me. The temptation you questioned me about earlier was a soul ripe for _your_ taking – certainly I felt it, but the allure you were feeling was not there for me. A demon does not go around stealing any soul he happens upon, and two demons will almost never quarrel over the same soul." Sebastian takes a few steps forward, turning his face skyward.

"You sure do seem to be the best teacher to have," I point out, smiling lopsidedly.

Sebastian mirrors the gesture, but it almost seems tinged with sadness. "Yes, well, I have been this way for many years. One does not easily forget the things that I have seen and done."

I bite my lip, studying the black-haired demon's face. Sebastian's eyes remain skyward for some time, until I clear my throat.

"So, like you mentioned? A soul that calls to me?"

Finally he looks at me and his expression is strange. "Yes. All demons can sense souls, quite obviously as they are what feeds us. But there are other souls, stronger and more enticing ones that I have come to believe are designed for us. There will be mediocre souls that you come across, but then there will be ones that you cannot keep from taking. They are the ones that push your self-control and test your limits."

I listen to him, watching the way different emotions flicker across his face as he speaks. I gather my hair up with both hands and twist it into a bun, letting it fall back over my shoulders.

"Was my soul just like that for you?"

Sebastian smiles. "It was exactly like that for me, my Lady."

"Well then I'm sorry you didn't get to collect it," I tell him, crossing my arms. The dark-haired demon shakes his head with a smile.

"Not exactly, Mistress." The sound of his voice is sort of triumphant in a sense, and I arch my eyebrow to silently encourage him to continue. "When I recreated you, I ended your human life. While I could not take your soul in its entirety, I was still able to harvest a significant amount. You see, a demon is essentially a soulless creature. But we still must have some vestiges of our former selves, must we not? You still have enough of your soul to survive, but you also have a piece of mine, my Lady."

My eyes widen in disbelief, barely understanding what he says. The smile on Sebastian's face is somewhat secretive, and his eyes twinkle with mirth. The snow picks up in intensity, as does the scent of the soul on the wind when a slight breeze ruffles my hair. It feels amazing not to have to wear a jacket, and I almost want to get naked just because I know I won't get cold.

"I have a piece of your soul inside me?" I ask, trying to double-check and make sure I've heard him correctly. "And you were still able to take mine?"

Sebastian nods. "In order for a human to become a demon, he or she must welcome in the darkness given to them by their creator. I gave you a bit of my darkness, and your unconscious state welcomed it with open arms. Your rebirth was gifted by me," he comes close to me and takes my face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over my cheekbones, "and we will spend eternity together."

Sebastian pulls my face to his and claims my lips with his own.

I am reborn.


	17. night, yielding

**A/N:** WELCOME BACK! Seems like a long time to wait for such a short chapter, but rest easy knowing I haven't spent a month writing it haha. I've been inexcusably busy with work and my general life, so I haven't really found the time to sit down and write. And with the holidays so close, I've been readying myself for the onslaught of family... BOO! =P At any rate, I mentioned earlier that the story is slowly coming to an end. As eager as I might be to FINALLY wrap this mother up, I can't guarantee that it won't be finished until after the new year. Maybe sooner, maybe later. Who knows! But I WOULD love some reviews from the readers, both the loyal who've stuck with me through this story and the occasional ones that just drop by. At any rate, you can probably expect another two or three chapter squeezed out of me until this baby ends. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Warning:** Sex and murder, MUAHAHA!

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><p>To me, the night is wild.<p>

It is an untamable creature, shrouded in both intrigue and danger alike. The shadows sulking underneath leafless trees reach out and seem to try and entangle you within them. They hold unseen things; possible foes, possible friends. There always seems to be a chill in the air the moment the sun sinks below the horizon, as if Mother Earth knows she must give up half of her days to this inevitable, dark time where anything can happen.

These were the things I used to think before Sebastian recreated me.

Now, the night is utterly beautiful and enchanting. The slight wind lifts and it feels like the November air kisses my skin – until Sebastian's hands trail around my waist and his lips find my bare shoulder.

"How do you feel, my Lady?" His voice is muffled against the skin of my shoulder and makes me smile right away. I cup my hands over his and turn my head towards his, breathing in his scent and realizing just now that he has one. It seems that before tonight, my senses were too dulled to pick up on something as suddenly mouthwatering as this. It is a combination of a few different scents; the heavy smell of cinnamon, an undertone of apples and a faint inkling of aloe. Sebastian's soft hair tickles the side of my neck and his fingers probe my stomach gently, pulling me close.

"I feel impossible," I breathe, closing my eyes.

Sebastian chuckles into the dip of my neck. "Impossible? I do not understand." I loosen Sebastian's hold and turn around, curling my arms around his neck and pressing my body flush to his.

"Impossibly perfect," I place a lingering kiss on his neck. "Impossibly powerful," the next one is placed under his jaw, and Sebastian's fingers dig in between my shoulder blades. "Impossibly beautiful."

Finally I let my lips claim his. Sebastian hums in the back of his throat when my fingers comb through his silky hair, gripping my shoulder blades with rough hands. I notice, though, that he doesn't seem as iron-strong as before, because I can easily match his strength with my own.

The silver moon breaks through a group of wispy clouds, casting a luminescent glow over the hard snow surrounding us. The wind picks up a little stronger and brings with it the scent of that soul, assuaging my senses with uncensored abandon. I gasp wildly and pull away, spinning on my heel and lifting my face to the wind.

Sebastian's laughter snags my attention, but it does little to break my concentration. I take a few steps forward, hearing my shoes crunch over snow and feeling my dress drag behind me, testing the wind to try and sense which direction the scent comes from.

"Perhaps we should go?" I hear Sebastian join me. "You seem to be growing antsier with each passing second."

"Who's antsy?" I close my eyes and inhale deeply. "I'm not antsy." When I open my eyes I can see that Sebastian's eyes glow violet as he watches me; a smile playing at the edges of his lips.

"I never believed that I would get to see the day where my Lady joins me in gathering souls," he tells me, taking my hand and lifting it to his lips. "It is difficult to explain the different thoughts running through my mind."

"Technically, it's night." I press my lips together to keep from grinning and I look away, into the surrounding woods. It's almost as through an invisible tether is attaching me to the soul and trying to pull me to it; I take a few more involuntary steps into the trees and know Sebastian follows.

"You feel the draw, do you not?"

"Is that what this is called? Feeling like the only thing you can do is go to the soul and take it?" I wrap my arms around my torso, unsure if I like this lack of control or not. Certainly the allure is there, but the automatic steps I've been taking are starting to unnerve me.

"Yes," Sebastian tells me. He keeps pace with me when my feet pull me forward once more, through the brambles and spindly trees – much to my dismay. Thorns and reaching twigs and branches tear at the crimson silk of my dress, making me frown. I'm not sure if I'm bleeding – can I bleed? but I know the annoyance at such a fine garment being torn is enough to make me grit my teeth. "You will learn to control it after a while. It can be a hindrance but also a good thing – you will not have to seek out souls on your own. Your body does it for you."

"Why?" I duck under a low, thick branch and thankfully the foliage clears up enough to where my clothing isn't getting ripped up. I take a minute, realizing I _can_, and bend to examine the damage taken. My skirts are tattered, as if the dress is years old instead of less than a week. I groan, standing straight and cupping one hand to my forehead.

"Madam Rouge would _kill_ me if she saw the dress now."

Sebastian chuckles. "Do not worry, Mistress. I am certain she will mend your skirts if only you ask."

I snort, rolling my eyes and dropping my hand. "Obviously you don't know the attitudes of the French."

"_Au contraire_, my Lady. I have lived with the French for many years and could tell you all about their mannerisms."

My feet begin to pull me forward again, and this time it's along a slightly-traveled path. I pick up my skirts and let my legs lead me wherever they please. The forest begins to thin out and we come out unto an empty street, lit with flickering candles inside lamps in an attempt to provide light. There are no houses along this street, and I recognize it as the one taken to get to my home. The snow along this road has not been cleared and I lift my skirts to avoid the slush, until I feel Sebastian's arms lift me from the ground.

"What are you doing?" I ask, clinging to his shoulders to acclimate to the sudden lift.

"A lady should never have to slum through the dirt," he tells me, meeting my eyes with a serious expression.

"But it's snow," I gesture to the ground, struggling to get free. I'm surprised at how I'm able to loosen his hold – thanks to my newfound strength – but Sebastian merely holds tighter.

"The snow is dirty." Amusement twinkles in his eyes and he begins forward, skirting large, misshapen hunks of dirty, icy snow. "A lady should never have to dirty her gown."

"Where is all this "lady" stuff coming from?"

Sebastian chuckles. "Tell me the direction in which to go, my Lady. It is imperative that we get you to this soul as soon as we can."

I point straightforward, feeling the urge to use my _own_ feet to get myself there. I squirm in his arms, rather involuntarily, but Sebastian's arms do not lessen their hold. The dark-haired demon walks in the path I've pointed out and I feel the satisfaction of growing closer to the soul. It eases the anxiety clutching my heart and quiets the uneven thumping.

"Can you walk a little faster?" I ask him, finally starting to grow antsy like he'd call me earlier. Sebastian laughs and picks up the pace, now moving in an easy lope. "Tell me what you meant earlier, about getting the soul being imperative?"

"The first soul ensures your survival. Older demons in the area will have sensed your rebirth, and there is a possibility that some of them may try to kill you. To make sure that does not happen, you will need your first soul to solidify your place in this world."

"They'll come to kill me?" There is no hiding the alarm in my voice – I've just started this life and I don't plan to give it up just yet!

Sebastian smiles placidly. "Rest assured that if it comes to that, I will not let it happen."

I take a deep breath, somewhat reassured. I know Sebastian is more than capable of keeping me safe from that, but in a way I don't want him to have to. I want to test my newfound strength on something and see just how I've changed. I adjust myself in Sebastian's arms and turn my upper body toward the direction of the soul, feeling the need grow more urgent once more. I think Sebastian can sense my need to get the soul, for he increases the pace again until we're running over the slushy, snowy ground. The empty road is illuminated by the moonlight and it casts shadows through the surrounding forest, but I can see nothing is between the trees. Before becoming demonic, the shadows used to scare me. I could never see clear enough to gauge whether or not I was safe – but now, I know I am.

I feel like I'm top on the food chain.

Eventually the road leads into a small cluster of houses, spaced evenly apart and separated with evergreens. The snow here is not as high as back at my home and Sebastian is able to set me down and allow me to lead us by the houses so I can find the right one. The soul is in one of these – I know for a fact. The curling anxiety in the pit of my stomach melts into eagerness, and I break into an excited run with my skirts swishing around my ankles and threatening to trip me up. Sebastian's footsteps keep up with mine, and I sense a bit of amusement radiating off him at my impatience.

I come to a sliding stop in front of a small, understated home buried behind a thick copse of leafless trees. I get the feeling that the inhabitant is a shut-in – no one has even tried to shovel away the snow clogging the path to her front door. But I know there is someone inside; I can hear a body moving around in the corner of the house, probably in one of the bedrooms. I am able to tell quickly that there is only one person inside, and judging by the flowery scent coming from the house I decide the body is female.

"This is the place?" Sebastian asks, coming to my side.

"Yes," I tell him. "The soul is inside." I think Sebastian is wondering why I haven't immediately descended on the house, judging by the penetrating stare I'm getting from him. But truth be told, I'm a little nervous! I'm not sure what he wants me to do, or what I should even do next. I rub my arm, pretending to be thoughtful to keep Sebastian from seeing the confusion and hesitation on my face.

"Go on, then," he tells me, touching my waist. "I am right behind you, my Lady."

I gulp. "What do I do?"

Sebastian laughs. "Tell me Mistress – you are not afraid, are you?"

I throw my shoulders back indignantly and roll my eyes, fixing Sebastian with a steely glare. "Of course not," I tell him. "That's just absurd."

"If I may be so bold? You seem to be hesitating." Sebastian's silky voice in my ear makes me bristle and tighten my fists. Instead of dignifying his observation with a response, I shrug away from his hands at my waist and stride forward, hearing Sebastian's chuckle at my back. His footsteps crunch behind me and as I get closer to the front door the satisfaction grows at being so near to the soul – it's like I can taste it now. Of course, I haven't the faintest idea of what's in store for me when I finally _do_ harvest this soul, but I imagine it can only be good things.

Now that I've set out to walking briskly, I don't let the front door hinder me. It's locked, as is natural for this time of night, but pulling it open is as easy as if the door was unlocked. The house is dark and quiet, except for the shrieking sound of a metal deadbolt ripping apart. A startled gasp echoes from a closed bedroom – I can hear this thanks to my demon's ears. Behind me, Sebastian leans the door back against its frame with a rather smug expression; one that begs me to comment on,

"Why do you look so smug?" I cross my arms and narrow my eyes, suddenly irritated when he grins.

"I am merely pleased that I do not have to rip apart any more doors," he states. "You can do it for _me_ now."

I snort with a smirk. "Don't get used to it," I say. "Gentlemen are supposed to open doors for ladies, not the other way around!"

"What sort of gentleman would I be if I did not open the door for my Lady?"

"A pretty terrible one," I comment, seeing Sebastian's smile grow. His red eyes glow brightly as if he's impossibly pleased with my response. The dark-haired demon ushers me forth, and I turn to where the bedroom is. The house of whomever lives here is small and understated at best – the interior is nothing but a single room that contains the kitchen, dining area and sitting room. Despite the cramped quarters of the space, it is perfectly polished and clean with the utmost care, it seems – not a fiber is out of place, not a speck of ash from the fireplace on the floor. I appreciate the cleanliness of it all, but my attention is waning.

A thump from the bedroom catches my attention and I stalk to the plain door, keeping unnecessarily quiet. The woman who lives in this house has to know we're here – she'd need to be deaf to escape hearing the door break. It sounds like she's trying to barricade herself inside her room; and that thought brings a smile to my lips.

"Anybody home?" I call sweetly, grinning when I hear the pickup of her heart. "Yoo hoo," I knock on her door, testing the brass knob. Her footsteps recede rapidly away from the door and I hear the springs of her mattress give way, as well as the whoosh of blankets. My mouth is watering at this time, and a peculiar animal instinct is begging me to rip down the door and murder her in her bed.

So, I push on the door and find it's blocked with furniture on the other side. This only amuses me and I follow up with a hearty shove, pushing whatever's keeping me from getting in away. A heavy dresser topples to the floor, spilling its drawers and the contents within all over the wood floor. A chair falls and most certainly scratches the floor, but it's the trembling woman on the bed my eyes are on. She can't be older than thirty, that much is sure – reddish-brown hair frames a heart-shaped face, and wide green eyes stare at me in terror. I wonder how bad my appearance is that makes her look so frightened. On the wall near her door is a long mirror, so I turn inside and examine myself. I don't look _too_ bad, other than the small rips and tears in my gown I look rather beautiful. It's an animalistic beauty, I notice, but there is something pleasing about it.

"I don't think I look that badly," I muse, flattening a few pieces of hair to my head and turning to face the woman. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"What do you want?" She manages to say, sounding rather worried. "I don't have any money! Take whatever you want and go!"

I smile and glance at Sebastian, who looks rather irritated at her assumption. "We're not here to rob you," I tell her, going to stand by the handsome demon. "There are other motives behind our visit."

"Please don't hurt me," she begs, huddling under her blankets. "Please don't kill me."

"I do not know about you, my Lady," Sebastian begins, "but her blathering is starting to get on my last nerve."

Now that I'm directly in front of the woman holding the soul I so desire, it's difficult to hold myself back.

"Is it always like this? Will I always fight to keep from ripping her to shreds?" I don't bother trying to lower my voice; the woman should know what's coming. It's only fair, after all.

"Not always, Mistress. Managing your urges will come with time, but for now I encourage you to give in to animalistic desires. It will help you cultivate the patience and restraint if you are able to milk it from your system now."

Delightful wickedness coils in the pit of my stomach and I fix the woman with a long look, deliberating how to go about her death.

"So I just kill her? How will I know what to do?"

"It comes automatically, my Lady. You will know precisely how to harvest her soul when it appears." I can see the woman's eyes flicking back and for the between Sebastian and I nervously, hearing our shared words and no doubt harboring a growing fear. I can smell her terror; it seeps from her skin like sweat and is just as heavy. Instead of disgusting me, however, the scent has my eyes glowing.

"Tell me your name," I instruct, surprised at how harsh my tone of voice is.

"M-Minerva," she stutters, swallowing hard. "What are you going to me?"

"Nothing too unpleasant, Minerva," I tell her easily. "You _are_ going to die, but I haven't made up my mind how I'll do it yet. I _could_ just break your neck… but I'm not sure how much fun there is in that. If I had a knife I think I'd carve you up, but then I'd bloody my dress."

The relief on Minerva's face is tangible, until Sebastian speaks. "I am certain I can find you a knife in the kitchen, my Lady, if you should so desire it."

I shrug my shoulders. "No," I say. "I think I'm tired of all that. I kind of want to get it over with now."

"Growing antsy, are we?" Sebastian teases, smirking at the expression at my face in response. He folds his arms behind his back and watches me patiently, obviously waiting for my next move. "Do not over think it, Mistress. Killing is already second-nature to you – this is no different."

I take a deep breath and look towards Minerva's now tear-streaked face. She's listened to our conversation and knows she's going to die, and her chest heaves with held-back sobs. I think I'll just break her neck to make things quick and easy.

"When she is dead, you will sense her soul's departure. It is your job to take it before something _else_ does, and you will know exactly how to do that."

I don't waste any more time – I stride quickly toward Minerva, who sinks down in bed and trembles.

"No, please! No-" Her begging is cut short when I put one hand on her cheek and the other on the side of her head, twisting quickly and earning a sharp _crack_.

Minerva's lifeless body slumps against the wall and I pull my hands away quickly, a little shocked how easy that was. Something new is happening – Sebastian's eyes blaze violet as he watches me studying Minerva's body, feeling a building sensation. Her skin starts to glow ever so faintly, and wisping tendrils of silver vapor begin to rise out of every pore on her body. I lean in close, realizing this is the moment I've been waiting for, kneeling on the bed to pull Minerva's body a little closer. I get the feeling it's important, so I angle her blank face upwards and see her eyes slowly open enough to reveal tiny slivers of the green of her irises. The color in them flashes brilliant emerald green and the color leaks out, melting into that same vapor that rises. I hold Minerva's face a little closer, inhaling and touching my chin to her forehead.

Something is happening now.

An intense, utterly fulfilling satisfaction floods through my body, filling every limb and tickling every nerve I have. Taking Minerva's soul is the most rewarding thing I've done thus far – and Sebastian seems to sense something new within me. As soon as Minerva's soul is completely trapped within me, he strides forward, pushing the lifeless body onto the floor and pins me down onto the bed.

"Sebastian, wha-?"

The demon covers my mouth with his, effectively silencing my question. He grinds his body against mine, pushing my legs apart and pushes crotch to mine, eliciting a surprised groan from me. His hands stroke my face and body; tangling through my hair one second before drifting down to squeeze my breasts. Then he winds an arm underneath me and uses it to arch my body against his, snagging my lip between his teeth.

"What are you doing?" I finally get to ask when he trails a line of tiny bites down my neck.

"Do not speak," the demon murmurs against my collarbone. "The only sounds I want to hear come from your mouth are ones of ecstasy." I squeal when Sebastian flips me over to unbutton my dress, making short work of them. I try to bend up so I can pull my dress off easier, but Sebastian pushes me back down and bends his body over mine, kissing between my shoulder blades. His hands skim over my skin, curling around my middle and fondling my breasts again, tweaking my nipple with two skilled fingers. His other hand holds me close to him, and the feeling of his erection pressing against my ass is foreign but not unwanted.

"Seeing this change in you is completely enchanting," he whispers, thrusting against me so I can feel every inch of his desire. "And to think I will get all of you for eternity…"

I turn my head, narrowing my eyes. "We're in someone else's home, Sebastian! We can't!"

"And that someone is no longer living, my Lady."

I'm completely taken aback at the sudden unexpectedness of Sebastian's desire. The demon's hands caress my skin, cupping my ass and pushing me forward until my chin has made fast friends with Minerva's pillow.

"Sebastian!" My voice is cut off when the demon thrusts his hips against mine once more. I can hear him chuckle in response, as well as feel his hands leave my body entirely. I prop myself up on my elbows as Sebastian doesn't seem keen on letting me up, and turn my head to see he's fiddling with his pants and pulling them down to his knees, freeing his lengthy erection and letting me see it. Truth be told, the idea of this impromptu fooling around is exciting – and I can't wait to find out what demon sex is like. I grip the fabric of Minerva's pillow case, biting my lip and waiting to see what he will do. I feel Sebastian's fingers probe around my entrance, penetrating for the briefest instance and massaging in the most perfect place.

Despite myself and my hesitations, I find my body reacting under his touch. My breath hitches and I lean forward, spreading my legs to dip my back and push my backside into the air. I feel Sebastian's weight move away from me and I turn my head to scowl, but I see instead he's bent down and then his tongue is on me, swirling over my clit and sending black spots blooming over my half-lidded vision.

"Oh…" I moan softly, letting my head drop. "Keep doing that, Sebastian…" His tongue does not stop, merely it picks up speed. Two of his fingers join it, pressing slowly into my core and eliciting a sharp intake of breath from me. I can't help but weave my backside back and forth, feeling the pleasure intensify from this new angle. Sebastian's tongue and fingers finish their exploration and he grasps my hips, moving closer to me and letting me feel the tip of his erection rub against my wet opening. He doesn't push in immediately; spending a few moments to tease me with a low chuckle threaded with desire. Finally, though, when he does sheath himself within me, he is not gentle.

But it feels good.

It's hard to imagine that this would have felt good if I were still human – Sebastian slams his hips against me so firmly that I'm sure to have a bruise in the morning. The sound of our bodies slapping together is tantalizing, and when it's paired with the sound of Minerva's headboard pounding the wall I can't help but groan loudly and reach between my legs to stroke myself. Sebastian bows over my body, cupping my breasts with rough hands and working them in circles until my muscles clench and release in a sweet, overwhelming orgasm. The dark-haired demon finishes shortly after I do, before the feel of him inside me becomes raw, and collapses down at my side. Sebastian pulls me next to him and pushes my hair out of my face, planting a kiss on my temple.

"Is it going to be like that every time?" I ask, referring to what's just happened.

"Was it too much for you, my Lady?"

"No," I answer quickly, shaking my head. "It was just right. It was perfect." Sebastian laughs, pulling Minerva's sheets over our sweaty bodies.

"We will stay here until we have rested," he tells me. "And then we shall return to our home."

I like the way that sounds – 'our home'. I snuggle closer to Sebastian and his arms tighten around my shoulders and waist, resting his face in the crook of my shoulder and neck. He inhales deeply and sighs with something like delight, bringing a smile to my face.

"How do I smell, then?"

Sebastian chuckles; caught red-handed. "Better than before," he says back. "Completely irresistible, but knowing your soul has already been claimed is even more satisfying."

"Well, good," I laugh, stroking his black hair. "I like knowing I belong to you."

Sebastian makes a noise deep in this throat and lets me go, rolling onto his side and capturing my face in his hands. "You are so much more than that, Mistress," his eyes search mine earnestly. "You are the one I will spend eternity with. At my side, Valentina, you will be untouchable. A demon revered for her strength and beauty, for her elegance and ferocity. And you are _mine_."

Sebastian's lips cover mine and in that instant my heart cracks, for I know now how impossible it is for him to love. He is a _demon_, after all – a creature from the wickedest of places and incapable of love. But I am newly demon and thus able to do what he is not; I still can love, and I do. I know it's impossible for him to love me, but for me to love him is not so hard. I can't help what I feel, and I'll enjoy it until my humanity is completely dead.


	18. caught, redhanded

**A/N:** Well, readers, I've returned. I know the absence has been horribly long, but I've got a worthy excuse! My old laptop died (you went strong for 4 years with no anti-virus!), and it went out in a blaze of glory. Meaning it took all my documents, photos and files with it. And THEN I got busy with working nights and managing school, so that ate away most of my writing time. But since the authoress in me absolutely forbade not writing, here I am! And here is another chapter, just waiting for your eyeballs to read away and your fingers to type out a lovely review, if you are so inclined to do so! =)

**Warning:** Violence, and a tad bit of smut.

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><p>"I should have anticipated this," a hard voice calls, surprising both Sebastian and I. We had been in the process of abandoning Minerva's home once daylight arrived, and I know neither of us had been paying too much attention to our surroundings. The male voice is mocking and familiar, but there is also an edge to it. I lift my head and meet a pair of roiling lavender eyes across the distance – Ash.<p>

"I smelled something different about you, Valentina," he continues, crossing his arms where he stands at the edge of the trees. "I should have known Sebastian was selfish enough to recreate you. Was your last consort not enough?" He directs the last part of his taunt directly to Sebastian, and I feel my demon companion stiffen.

I turn my head to send Sebastian a curious look, but the dark-haired demon has eyes only for Ash. Anger seethes from him, so distinct that I can feel it and it makes me wonder where it's come from so suddenly. His reaction instantly has me in a peculiar sort of defense mode that I don't recognize, especially because it usually takes more than one goading comment from the blonde demon to get Sebastian to react with such hostility.

"What do _you_ want?" Sebastian calls back, taking a step closer to my side. I abruptly remember Sebastian's telling me of other demons in the area arriving to inspect the new creation, but I never expected that demon to be Ash! I think Sebastian has it in mind to protect me if Ash makes a threatening move, and that makes my palms itch with anticipation. It's almost as if I _want_ Ash to do or say something to provoke Sebastian into assuming a defensive mode of attack. I know that I would join the fight in a second.

"I merely came to see if my inkling was correct," Ash says, taking a few easy steps closer to us. I don't sense any immediate danger from him, but it doesn't stop Sebastian from stepping forward once in a silent warning. It seems the darker-haired demon is more intent on keeping me safe than I had predicted. "And it seems it is."

Behind him, I see the petite figure of his mortal accomplice standing in the trees. She watches with wide, nervous eyes, and I'm astounded he's brought her with him. Is Ash insane? Even if the mood between the three of us is mildly virulent, this is no place for a human. I should know. The handful of meetings I've had with Ash while I was still mortal frightened me enough. The girl meets my eyes and I can read her terror; I know she knows the truth. She knows what all three of us are, and she is scared for her soul. I can sense that part of her, too, but it is just a prickling annoyance in the back of my mind. It doesn't hold the same draw like Minerva's had. Her soul is a darker color than Minerva's was. I realize I feel bad for the girl; sorry that Ash has pulled her along on his investigation.

"What does it matter to you?" Sebastian asks in a hard voice, narrowing his sienna-red eyes.

Ash merely smiles, shaking his head. "It doesn't, really. I had a hunch you wouldn't go through with taking her soul. The last contract you had became void, just like this one. I'm beginning to see a pattern!"

Sebastian snarls and his eyes flash dangerously, warning the other demon. "Do not meddle in my affairs, incarnate. Do you recall what happened the last time you attempted to do exactly this? I ripped your sinful wings clean off your back and sent you to Hell. Shall I do it again?"

Ash laughs, his eyes roiling electric lavender. "You didn't escape completely unharmed, don't forget. How _did_ you manage to get another arm? Did you steal it from another demon, perhaps?"

I can tell Ash's taunting is beginning to eat away at Sebastian, but the demon suddenly regains his composure with a single look to my curious face. Sebastian straightens up and folds his arms behind his back, falling back to stand at my side. This is the first I've heard of Sebastian's arm, and I automatically glance to his arms. They seem to work naturally enough, but I have seen enough of Sebastian in action to know that a demon can accomplish anything.

"No matter," he says evenly, surprising Ash with his sudden level-headedness. "That is the past. Your curiosity has been sated, so please, allow us to continue on our way." With the politeness back in his voice, Sebastian takes my hand and crunches through the snow away from the blonde-demon. I chance another puzzled look back at Ash, seeing the fury written cleanly on his face.

"Don't think this is the last time you'll see me! I can tell you still have a lot to explain to your new consort, and I won't let you rest until she knows the whole truth!" The conviction in Ash's voice is startlingly strong, and it has me glancing back to where the blonde demon stands, furious with being abandoned. His lavender eyes meet mine and Ash _smiles_, the same predatory smile I recognize from the masquerade ball so long ago.

His voice fades as we enter the trees, replaced with the sounds of nature. A hundred different thoughts are spinning through my head and I have a hard time deciding where to begin. I stay quiet, though, wanting to get home before I voice any of them for the sake of privacy. But when we do get home, I kick my shoes off and start a fire, settling in on one of the couches. I find grace comes easily to me now; Sebastian had been unable to take his eyes off me while I moved around the parlor.

"Sebastian," I begin, glancing up at him. The dark-haired demon knows exactly where my conversation intends to go, so he settles across the room from me in the armchair.

"Yes, my Lady."

"What was Ash talking about? What truth?" I get the distinct feeling Sebastian doesn't want to tell me anything, and I don't think I can order him to now that our contract is void. But he sighs, sitting as straight as ever even though I slouch, and sends his gaze into the fire. I do deserve to know the truth, after all.

"There are things you do not know, my Lady," he tells me. "I had hoped it would never come up in conversation, yet here it is. I do not want to waste my breath with an edited version of the truth, so I shall tell you it all. Before you, I had a young master by the name of Ciel Phantomhive. He was just a young boy of thirteen when he entered into contract with me, and his tasks were similar to yours in nature. However, complications arose involving a pair of demons named Hannah and Claude, and just when I was to take Ciel's soul from his body, I was betrayed.

"A demon _never_ intervenes on the harvesting of another's soul. This is a crucial rule of our kind. But somehow, Claude managed to intervene on my harvesting in such a way that Ciel's soul was 'misplaced', his memories lost, and my success stolen from me. I was left with a shell of a boy who could not even remember his own name. This infuriated me so greatly that I destroyed most of the island you and I visited and swore to exact revenge on Claude for his betrayal."

I listen patiently, so entirely absorbed in Sebastian's story that I hardly blink. In my mind I paint a mental picture of his story, imagining Ciel to be a brave and reckless young boy. He had to have been, in order to attract Sebastian's attention.

"What did you do?" I ask, leaning forward with interest. Sebastian's eyes flick to mine for the briefest of moments, and I can read the pent-up anger from the past leaking through. He's still bothered by Claude's betrayal, even though I'm sure he's already gotten rid of that particular demon.

"I had to baby Ciel. It was difficult to restore his memories, but in the end, I was able to. Of course, Claude could not leave well-enough alone. He desired Ciel's soul for himself, and was not happy that I had come into contract with it. I suppose you could say Claude had always been my rival, mistress, as our naïve young masters liked to think we were. During the entire process of restoring Ciel's memories, Claude was an irritating presence that would not leave me alone. Even his young master became obsessed with mine, although in the end Claude killed his own master to eliminate the annoyance he was.

"When I had finally pieced together as much of Ciel's memories as I possibly could, the second demon, Hannah, came into play. She worked for Claude, assuming the role of a beaten maid as not to arouse suspicions to herself. She was pulling half the strings the entire time, as it turned out, and through a series of irritating events she was able to secure a sub-contract with _my_ master stating that if I were to kill Claude, Ciel would become a demon himself."

"And that was never what you wanted?"

"It was something I had not anticipated. It seemed my young master had become more conniving than he had been before his memories were taken." Sebastian steeps his fingers together, growing more and more irritated as the story continues. It's interesting to see his reaction; hell, it's interesting to learn something about Sebastian's past at all. I'm trying to paint a mental picture of Ciel as the story goes along, and I'm seeing a small boy in clothes more dated than my own, with something covering one eye, perhaps? It's not my own imagination creating this image – it's almost like some of Sebastian's memories have transferred to me. The picture is foggy at best, but it helps me glean who we're talking about.

"Ciel was demanding, as both a mortal boy and a young demon. He insisted on my keeping the role of butler after his re-creation, and kept the act of superiority going strong. Before he was reborn, I would often tell myself that if I could make it through Ciel's lifetime and get his soul, I would prosper. Remember how strong the pull to Minerva's soul was for you, my lady? Imagine something ten times as strong and so potent that it makes your head spin. That is how Ciel's soul attracted me, and how your soul had been before the change."

Sebastian gets up and crosses the room, settling in next to me on the loveseat, pulling me close. "Even now, your very presence is intoxicating." He takes my face in his hands and tilts it up, drawing his nose along my jawline as if to smell me. It makes me shiver, but I have no time for romance when Sebastian's story has just gotten to the good part.

"Keep going," I tell him, rather breathlessly. "What happens next in the story?"

Sebastian makes an amused sound in his throat and frees me, keeping one hand on my leg. "Ciel's subcontract with Hannah outlined that if she or Claude were killed, my former young master would become a demon. I knew such contracts like this existed, but I had not heard of something like that happening in some time. And after eliminating those two meddling demons, the contract Ciel formed with Hannah came to life and he was reborn. I had no choice but to care for my young master, as he was still under contract with me. It was not easy going – Ciel did not take to demon life as quickly as you have, my Lady. It mattered not that he was a demon; a child is a child, all the same."

I'm watching Sebastian's lips as he speaks. I know I shouldn't let myself get so easily distracted, but the way they form words is sensuous, to say the least. I nod my head absently, encouraging him to continue, and Sebastian chuckles.

"My Lady, I do not think you are listening to me."

"I'm listening!" I protest, but a smile forms on my mouth. Sebastian leans in to kiss me and the very taste of his lips has my head spinning. I can thank my heightened senses for that.

"What did you do with Ciel? Obviously something, or else Ciel would still be around."

Sebastian pulls back and looks away, fighting a mixture of expressions on his face. "This is where the story gets a little unfavorable, mistress," he tells me.

"Unfavorable? How do you mean?"

"I fear that it will make you think differently of me."

I can't help but smile. "Sebastian, if one little story is going to make me change my opinion of you, based on all the things we've done and been through together, then I'm the worst person in the world."

Sebastian laughs and meets my eyes, presenting me with their sienna-red depths. "All right, my Lady. Several months passed and I found that I was more a caregiver than a butler. Ciel was like a newborn baby; he needed instruction with the most basic of tasks. The change triggered something in his brain and he got easily confused, distracted and discouraged with himself. There was only so much I could take, my Lady. I am sure that by now you have come to understand that I am a very independent creature. All demons are – it is their nature. Rare is it for two to pair up, like we have, and even rarer is it for those two to stay together. Claude's partnership with Hannah was the first I had come across in several decades. It was clear to me immediately that something was off about the two of them, but I could not determine their ulterior motives until it was too late.

"Claude's young master, Alois Trancy, took an unhealthy liking to my young master. Ciel was always receiving invitations to the Trancy manor, and I could pick up that something was amiss at the time of each visit. Our young masters seemed to take great interest in pitting Claude and I against each other, and I understood at the time that they were tests of strength. Alois seemed determined to figure out who was the better demon butler. But I am getting off topic, my Lady."

Sebastian pauses for a few seconds to stoke the fire, sending a fresh wave of warmth throughout the room. He turns to me and puts his arms behind his back, bowing his head and closing his eyes as to not meet my gaze.

"The truth you are waiting for, the one you must try to understand, is that I killed my young master."

The silence that reigns between us is heavy. Sebastian waits for my reply, and I'm waiting for a suitable one to come to me. Astoundingly, though, this doesn't surprise me. It's caught me off-guard, yes, but I'm not shocked. However, new thoughts come to mind. If I don't show enough progress quickly, will Sebastian kill me, too?

"You killed him?" I finally say. My voice sounds more like a squeak than I like, and it has Sebastian moving closer. I find my eyes train themselves on his movements and Sebastian pauses instantly, picking up on the suspicion I'm subconsciously sending out.

"My Lady, you have nothing to fear," he says gently, drifting cautiously to my side and resting on his knees. "It was something that had to be done."

"I understand," I say, even though in reality I don't. Could Sebastian not have had a little patience? Of course, I know literally nothing about Ciel's personality and therefore can't honestly judge Sebastian for doing what he did, but it still bothers me. Sebastian's hands reach out and touch me, trying to gauge how on edge I am, and his touch only disturbs me. I pull away and get up, presenting him with my back and try to ignore the feeling of his eyes burning into my skin. I'm probably acting a little too strange for Sebastian to believe I understand his motives. I'd be fooling myself if I said I couldn't imagine him doing something like that – I know who Sebastian is, and I know he's a killer. We both are. There is no logical reason for my trepidation.

But I just can't wrap my head around the fact that Sebastian killed his _master_.

"My Lady?" I hear Sebastian's voice draw closer, filled with curiosity, and I make myself turn around. I don't want to hurt Sebastian by ignoring him or moving away again, especially not after I'd told him I would not think any differently if he told me the truth. I'm acting different, I know that.

"Does what I told you change your mind about me, mistress?" Sebastian's eyes bore into my skull and I get the feeling that he's reading them to find the truth. I shake my head and move close to him, into his arms, hiding my face in his chest.

"No," I mumble quietly, knowing he can hear me. I wonder how much of that is a lie. "It's not something outrageously unbelievable." Sebastian's hands press into my back and hold me close to him, and I feel his head bend and touch against mine.

"Then why the reaction? You have never been a good liar, my Lady."

I grin abruptly, snorting with amusement. "I know," I say, lifting my head to look in his eyes. "But how could you kill your master? Doesn't that go against some moral code?"

Sebastian smiles patiently. "Claude could easily kill his master, could he not? After Ciel's demonic transformation, I found it was easier and easier to ignore his commands and do what I wanted. A piece of Hannah had been transplanted into Ciel's soul, and despite the contract, Ciel and I were not connected in the way we once were. It was all too easy to take his life." Sebastian's voice is gentle as he explains this to me, but it doesn't exactly quell my growing doubt. Could Sebastian kill me, if he got annoyed enough? I tap my fingers on his lapel, drawing them down to fiddle with the chain of his silver pocket watch. Sebastian can tell something is still bothering me, but I haven't the desire to speak on it.

"After you killed him, what happened?" I'm interested in turning the subject back to his story to hide my true feelings.

I feel Sebastian's eyes studying me, but I keep mine on his jacket. "After I killed him," he says, deliberately slow, "I was freed. The contract was void, as Ash pointed out. I was a demon free to roam once more."

Mentioning Ash reminds me of the things he'd said to Sebastian outside of Minerva's house, and how bothered Sebastian had been from them.

"What did Ash mean, about your arm?" I grip his biceps with both of my hands; they both feel like real arms to me. Nothing feels false.

"It was a little over fifty years ago, before Claude and Hannah ever came into the picture. Ash was the Queen's bodyguard, her personal butler and a creature masquerading as both an angel and a demon. Before I took Ciel to the island to devour his soul, I had discovered that it was Ash behind the killings that drove Ciel into asking for a demon's help. Do you recall learning of the Great Fire of London in school?"

I nod my head. It was something scholars commonly included in school lessons. "The fire started in a bakery and burned a lot of central London," I say, recalling an old lesson from my schoolteacher.

Sebastian shakes his head to disprove my words. "That is commonly believed. What mortals do not know is that the fire was actually started by Ash himself, and cleverly disguised as a bakery fire. He intended to burn down the city and cleanse it of all impure souls, hoping to burn my young master in the process. The fire spread, consuming hundreds of lives and pushing most of the people out of the city. Ash retreated to the London Bridge, where he was hoping to construct it as a sort of gateway to Heaven, and that is where he and I made our final stand. My young master was already gravely injured at that point and could do little but try to stay alive. I challenged Ash in battle, and lost my arm in the process. Though it was not enough to keep me from ripping his wings from his back and ending his life."

I lean back, astounded with this new knowledge. Ash started the Great Fire?

"He should be dead," I muse, and Sebastian nods and makes a sound of agreement.

"He should, mistress. But it seems our friend Ash was too wicked for Heaven and too cunning for Hell." I like the way Sebastian has phrased this. It describes Ash perfectly – wicked and cunning. Sebastian's arms are still around my body and even though I don't feel much temperature any more, his body seems warm. I feel mildly safe in his embrace, but my mind can't forget that Sebastian killed his former young master. I can't help but pull away.

Sebastian knows something is wrong; his eyebrow rises questioningly and he turns to watch as I walk from him, keeping quiet. I wrap my arms around my torso and stare into the flames of the fire, refusing to give to light any of the thoughts that thunder through my head like hoof beats.

"Valentina," Sebastian says my name, and it reminds me that I've only heard him call me that a handful of times. I can't help but turn. The sound of his voice alerts me to something strange about him, and when I look at his face I can see the apology written clearly across it.

"So if I don't learn quickly enough, are you going to kill me, too? If I get discourage or confused, will you kill me like you did Ciel?"

Sebastian flinches, and I can tell I've hit a nerve. I feel faintly guilty for insulting him like that, but I couldn't keep it from slipping out. I need to know.

"My Lady," he murmurs, strangely keeping his distance from me. I'm almost alarmed as to the fact that he isn't coming any closer. "You have nothing to fear from me. I would never presume to hurt you in any way. You must believe that my attachment to you is as strong as any demon is capable of."

I listen to what he says, slowly beginning to understand what he's saying. "You love me?" My voice wavers, ever so slightly, and I meet his eyes. They're burning, smoldering, devouring my gaze as hungrily as his mouth and hands always have.

"You know as well as I do that a demon cannot love another, mistress. And yet, even if that truth is absolute, I do feel that love is the only emotion to accurately describe how I feel for you. I cannot love… but I remember how to. And I know that were I still mortal, I would be in love with you."

I immediately cross the distance between us and throw my arms around his neck, kissing his mouth fervently. Sebastian welcomes my eager embrace, taking my face in his hands and pushing me backwards, pinning my body to the wall.

"I could never harm you," he murmurs into my skin, ghosting his lips over my jaw. "You are too utterly perfect." I adjust my body, angling it so that my hips are pressed to his. I lift my leg and rub it to his side, inspiring him to grasp my thigh and lift me up, situating himself between my legs. I gasp wildly, feeling how rough he's being with me and loving every second of it. I run my fingers through his hair and feel the burning urge to admit something to him, too, and so I turn my head to the side to speak. Sebastian's lips probe the skin of my throat, so I know he can hear me.

"Sebastian, I have something to say to you," I breathe, managing to whisper out the words when desire is so completely threading through me. "I am a demon now, yes… but I haven't forgotten human emotions. And I love you, Sebastian, so thoroughly that you are all I can see no matter your past."

The dark-haired demon's kisses pause, and he lifts his head to look into my eyes. I feel a bit shy, suddenly, even though I know Sebastian feels the same way about me. His eyes dance violet, roiling back to sienna-red every several seconds, devouring the smallest amount of hesitation in my glace. I'm not so sure I should have told him what I did, but it's too late to take it back. Sebastian knows that I love him, and he'll take that confession any way he likes.

"My Lady," he begins, in a low voice meant only for my ears. Strangely, though, he doesn't continue speaking. Instead he searches my eyes, seeming to say everything necessary with his gaze.

I drop my eyes though, suddenly unwilling to be scorched by his. "I know demons can't love," I backpedal quickly, intent on making myself seem like less of a fool than I already have. "But humanity is still fresh in my mind. I loved you before you recreated me and I love you now. That's just the way I feel."

Sebastian sets me down, gently, and strokes my cheek with the back of his knuckles. "My Lady, please do not think that I am turning you away. I can remember love, but I cannot feel it any longer. What I would like is for you to hold on to that love, and then perhaps I could feel it, too."

He kisses my lips, then, slow and soft and sweet. It's all I can do to keep from melting into the floor, especially when his nimble fingers trail over my face and down both sides of my neck. I grab fistfuls of his jacket and pull him close, but this time it isn't in ferocious lust. I want him as close to me as he can possibly get. If I could, I would melt into Sebastian's bones and become a part of him, even though my demon soul was granted through his power and therefore makes me a part of him. It isn't enough to have him kiss me. I need more.

I push Sebastian back and free myself from the wall, grabbing his hand and leading him to the loveseat. Sebastian needs no further instruction; he pulls me into his lap so that I'm straddling him and kisses me fervently. His hands trail up and down my sides, gripping the fabric of my torn dress and my skin underneath, and the feeling makes me moan. I press myself tightly to him, cupping his neck with both of my hands and refusing to let something as trivial as breathing stop our kisses. They are fueled by something different than desire this time, and I can identify the feeling so easily that it's like second nature.

Love.

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><p><strong>AN: **Once again, sorry for the delay. If you liked the chapter, you know what to do!


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